The Vampire of Veldin
by Jekkal
Summary: DreadZone's gone, but Ratchet and his friends discover that the Vox Empire's turned into a whole new threat . . . and by new, we mean worse. [Updated by popular demand November 27, 2007!.]
1. Prologue: A Heros Return

_Once upon a time in a forlorn land,  
A man on a mission was left at fate's hand  
In his eyes you could see the whites turn red  
Surrounded by evil, abandoned for dead . . ._

- "Destined for Glory" by Hammerfall

**Prologue  
A Hero's Return**

* * *

The crunch of metal soles on the dusty clay sands of Veldin resounded with the sweet sounds of victory as the spacecraft descended to the surface. As the dust cleared, a hatch began to open, the mechanical pistons and pumps resounding in a symphony of excitement as the contents of the craft came into view for all to see. The first figure to be seen was that of a puny, blocky robot. 

"Feeling better after that 'detour' to Aquatos, Ratchet?"

"That was EXCELLENT!" Ratchet responded as he appeared at the threshold, leaning against it. "I don't know what was better, the food, the show, or the ... well, let's just say Hydro Girl knows how to throw a party!"

"I'm glad to see you're recovering so rapidly from Gleeman Vox's DreadZone, Ratchet."

"Hey, you forget who you're talking to, I'm . . . the hell is going on here?"

Ratchet glanced out at his landing field, to notice a strange processional approaching the craft. It was hardly the first time Ratchet came home to a large welcome, least of all on his home planet, but something about this group seemed too orderly. Too organized. Too . . . formal.

There seemed to be an even mix of men and women among the lot, all Lombaxes, all dressed to the nines. Each gentleman had on a black tuxedo with an ice blue shirt, and each woman an ice blue dress with a black shrug covering both shoulders and their right arms, each of them wearing the exact same type of strappy sandal with an inch-high heel. On everyone's lapel or shrug, there appeared to be a design embroidered on, again in the same ice blue.

" . . . Clank, did we just crash a prom or something?"

"I checked the coordinates half an hour ago. This location should have been empty." Clank shrugged, looking out upon the crowd. "I suspect they're here for us."

Ratchet walked down the rampway of the craft, approaching the male closest to the vehicle. "Hey, pal, what's with the fancy clothes? I'd have been happy enough with these girls wearing nothing!"

The women bristled, the nearest one looking especially perturbed. The fellow Ratchet had addressed suddenly looked tense. "Hey, Ratchet, if you want answers, don't come looking to me, okay? We're here for you."

"I guessed that. I want to know why."

The man shrugged. "I don't think it's my question to answer."

"Who's in charge here? I want to know which one of you guys is-!"

The perturbed woman, having enough of this, grabbed hold of Ratchet by an ear. Almost on instinct, Ratchet pulled out a wrench, swinging for her. This would have been enough to send any mere Lombax flying into the dirt, but the woman dodged it, yanking Ratchet down to throw him off, before diving under him to flip the Lombax onto his back. She stood up, only covered with incidental dust, staring down at a shocked Ratchet.

The female fiddled with a golden bracelet on her sleeve-covered arm, checking it for damages. She started mumbling to herself. "Figures. Three thousand years of egalitarianism and he still goes for the nearest set of tools he sees . . ."

Ratchet narrowed his eyes, staring up at her, still flat on his back. " . . . I'm guessing it's you then."

"You will refer to me as Aria, Ratchet." The woman spoke with scorn and crossed arms. "I am the leader of this escorting party, and we are charged with bringing you to Elysium. As you can imagine, we would prefer to do so with minimal casualties to yourself."

"You could have just said that."

"You could have addressed us all rather than assuming that boy was in charge of the lot of us as well, but assumptions are fragile, misshappen things most of the time, aren't they? We'll be glad to take you there without further incident . . . assuming you don't make any more."

"Excuse me, Madam Aria." Clank came on down the rampway, with Al at the top of the ramp, looking out. "I'm afraid I must ask about this 'Elysium' you want to take Ratchet to."

Almost immediately, Aria's stature shot up an extra inch, her ears perking up. "I can explain on the way." Aria smiled at Clank. "All you need to understand for now is that this 'warrior' here has been summoned there by the Protectorate, and we have orders to accompany him to there directly from this landing site."

Ratchet shook his head has he rose to his feet. "Hang on, the 'Protectorate'? As in 'the one who saves your ass on a regular basis'? As in 'the hero who keeps every two-bit thug from blowing up or otherwise decimating this planet'?"

"Exactly." Aria raised an eyebrow at Ratchet, who was now wearing a sardonic grin on his face.

"Then there's a small flaw in your statement. I've saved this place at least twice so far. That makes me the Protectorate. I can't very well summon myself without knowing about it." Ratchet pointed to himself, still looking smug.

"You're right. You can't summon yourself."

"Then you're mistaken in your 'orders'." Ratchet continued.

Aria shook her head. "You've been summoned. That much is fact."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "But . . . I'm the Protectorate."

Aria frowned. "Not anymore. Now I've had enough of playing 'Planetary Politics 101' with you. We are authorized to escort you directly from here to Elysium, by force if necessary, and if you wish to question the orders we were given by the new Protectorate . . . you can say them to her face."

The crowd began to walk off, as Aria watched Big Al and Clank walk to the surface. "You're welcome to accompany us as well, of course. We have hovercrafts this way." She pointed off in a direction, which Ratchet began walking towards, with an unmistakable look of confusion on his face.


	2. A Long, Strange Trip

_This is the last time I'll abandon you  
And this is the last time I'll forget you  
I wish I could . . ._

- "Stockholm Syndrome", by Muse

**Chapter 1  
A Long, Strange Trip**

* * *

Big Al took a seat behind Aria in her craft, which was zooming ahead of the others on the sands of Veldin, each craft feeding off of the sand kicked up by the previous craft, much resembling a flock of geese. He seemed especially intent to listen to Aria's explanations, although the electricity coming off of Al's body kept making Aria's fur stand on end. 

" . . . while a human government often ends up run by lawyers and entrepreneurs, and by no small coincidence ends up with laws that all but the lawyers can supersede on behalf of the wealthy and the corporations, the Veldin governance is run by guilds of various professions. Each guild sends its representatives, and is headed in the legal system by their foremost in the field. For example, the Guild of Musicians often ends up run by some classical performer or composer, the Guild of Tinkerers is lead by the top Mechanic who more often than not is also an inventor, and so on." Aria spoke with clarity and precision as the craft sped onwards.

"Who decides who should head these Guilds?" Clank spoke up, having scored the slightly enviable position of sitting at Aria's side for the trip. Ratchet was on Aria's other side, in a less than enviable position, one wrist secured to the craft's door. He tugged at it, losing interest in Aria's speech.

Aria cast a quick glance to check on Ratchet, before continuing. "It depends on the guild. For the Spirituals, often one of their head priests for a certain religion runs the group, and they select which religion's head should lead by weeks of deliberation every five years. Among the Musicians, they vote among themselves annually which performer is acclaimed and celebrated enough to justify the honor. And among the Guild of Soldiers, the head is usually a high-ranked general or commander, but thanks to the Martyr's Exception Act of 3682 . . ."

"The one that says I SHOULD still be in control . . ." Ratchet interjected, a wounded tone in his voice.

Aria narrowed her eyes. " . . . in the case of an exceptional attempt to subvert the governance, commit a planetary act of Terror, or otherwise threaten the extinction of the Lombax species, the head of whatever effort succeeded in stopping such an attempt will be named Head of the Soldiers, or the more common title, 'Protectorate', until another effort supersedes the Head by halting a more recent event, or five years have passed."

Clank takes a moment to process the new information, before raising a hand. "But then why is Ratchet no longer that Head?"

"Yeah, he stopped Drek from blasting this place into an asteroid belt not that long ago . . . " Big Al leaned forward some more, causing Aria to grab hold of her right ear. " . . . and even if he did end up deposed, what's with the whole 'summoning him by force' treatment?"

"The restraint on Ratchet's wrist is more for show than actual effort to constrain him. I am keenly aware that if Ratchet wanted to, he likely could have decimated the entire party and forced the Protectorate to employ more direct means. However, I also know that Ratchet is, if the stories are to be believed, a moral man who would not kill his own kind over such trivial matters."

Ratchet growled slightly. "Then why the show of force at all?"

"To make it clear that if you try to resist this level of it, the Protectorate can consider calling a proper Hunt on you." Aria replied swiftly, turning to face Ratchet. "Don't get me wrong, I'd hate being held down as well, but after attacking me with a wrench earlier... I can't say you're peaceful enough to warrant allowing you to ride without it."

Ratchet snorted, before slumping in his seat. Clank glanced at Ratchet, before returning his attention to Aria, almost eager to change the topic. "So this Elysium you spoke of is the seat of power on Veldin?"

"Yes. We should expect to find most of the governance there when we arrive, most certainly the Protectorate along with the Chief Ambassador and Head of Philosophy. The Protectorate is all we are interested in for now, as she summoned Ratchet as soon as she received word that he had been found."

"But you still never explained why Ratchet isn't in charge!" Al interjected.

"Ratchet lost his position through failing to govern, as well as being superceded by a new warrior." Aria pulled up a small datapad. "The attempted invasion from the northern canyons by the forces of the 'Vox Empire' a few months ago, were disrupted, freeing over 50 Lombaxes which had already been captured and observed for unknown reasons."

"Hey! I just dealt with Vox!"

"Yes, but were you doing so in the name of Veldin and for the protection of the species?" Aria glanced back. "We appreciate the sentiment, Ratchet, but from what we saw, you were acting in your own interests — however admittedly justified they may be — to take down the Empire yourself, but not to protect Veldin as you had done before."

"You don't know that!" Ratchet interjected back, insulted.

"You were focused more on the 'Heroes' of the galaxy and yourself more than your fellow Lombax. At no point did you act in Veldin's defense nor save another Lombax, except maybe incidentally in the form of saving nameless fans you were going to save regardless."

Ratchet's jaw dropped, dumbstruck. Aria smiled at him, then turned her head forward to watch the path ahead. He looked as though he was gearing up a response, first clenching his jaw, then pointing, then resisting the urge to throttle the apparent 'head' of his escorting party, before just slumping back into his seat.

Aria smirked as soon as he collapsed into the chair. "Expect it to be another hour before we meet her. I'm sure that as a fellow warrior, you will be quite impressed by her skills."

Ratchet muttered under his breath. "Don't count on it."


	3. For Every Piece, a Puzzle

_Pleased to meet you  
Hope you guess my name  
But what's puzzling you  
Is the nature of my game . . ._

- "Sympathy for the Devil", by the Rolling Stones

**Chapter 2  
For every Piece, A Puzzle**

* * *

A wide, looming, structure rose out of the horizon, a mix of red stone carved and hewn into pillars and arches mixed in with modern, metallic platforms, solar panels, and arcing rods of steel and wire. Vegetation clung to the structure in places, as its entrance rampway stretched out over a rare moat that fed the gardens surrounding this structure. 

The hovercrafts speeding towards it slowed down just enough for their passengers to take in the sight, not the least of which was Ratchet, still watching the structure in a slight level of awe. He'd never approached the Elysium like this before... even if he'd already seen the inside several times, this was a new view for him.

Aria smiled as she saw Ratchet's awe. "Anxious?"

Ratchet snapped out of his minor trance. "Just some sun in my eyes."

The crafts continued to slow down, until they were at the edge of the creeping oasis surrounding Elysium, where they dropped back to the sands as they powered down. Big Al was the first to leap out of Ratchet's craft, with Clank following behind him while Aria undid Ratchet's cuff.

"I'm warning you now, Ratchet, one false move in Elysium and you're as good as dead." Aria scolded him in advance, watching Ratchet as he checked his wrist.

"I'm not about to start a fight in there. Who do you think I am, anyway?"

Aria raised an eyebrow. "All I know is, if she wants to see you, there must be some reason. You don't summon someone who you expect to come on their own, after all."

Ratchet just shook his head as he was lead forward towards the gates, accompanied by no less than two dozen of the nicely-dressed 'escorting group' that had come for him. The guards at the entrance stood up, watching the crowd with incredulity, but soonafter went about their business. Clank ran up to pace himself with Ratchet.

"Ratchet, I have a bad feeling about this situation." Clank spoke up. "I don't see what sort of infraction could have occurred that would warrant this treatment."

"It can't be too bad. Maybe this chick just wants some advice from a professional?" Ratchet shrugged, before noticing the glare on Aria's face. "That or maybe she just really, really wants to see me. It has been a while since I've been planetside."

"Maybe she's scared stiff after seeing you take down Ace Hardlight on DreadZone!" Al spoke up. "I'm sure anyone who saw that match would be worried about ending up on your bad side!"

Ratchet grinned. "Yeah... might even be wanting to start up some sort of alliance just so she won't have to worry about anything like that... That's got to be it!"

Aria rolled her eyes, talking to herself. "Oh ye of little imagination..."

They crossed the threshhold into Elysium itself, revealing blue marble floors and an impressive array of screens, cables, wires, and other forms of exhibited artwork. The most striking part of the Elysium's grand foyer was a show-screen that spanned seven floors when lit, but turned off in its current state, just appeared to be a mesh of LEDs that barely obscured the aides, tourists, and other passersby walking behind it. Not all of the people inside were Lombaxes - every now and then there were Tyrranhoids walking along, robot secretaries taking dictation as their bosses walked on ahead, and other stranger, furrier, or just plain alien creatures making their way about.

Al's jaw dropped in awe, while Ratchet scanned the area, before speaking up. "So where is this Protectorate?"

"In her offices, most likely. Would you like me to invite her out here, or are you humble enough to go up there yourself?" Aria spoke, then glanced over to Ratchet.

"Get her down here."

Aria nodded, before pulling out a small violinist's bow. With a quick tap, its corresponding violin appeared in Aria's hands, and she cradled it between her chin and shoulder without a word. Scant moments later, Ratchet noticed that each of the nicely-dressed party members with him had also donned their instruments, some of them sitting on newly-appearing stools to help manage the bulkier of the instruments. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as they poised themselves into position.

A half-note from Aria later, and the grand foyer suddenly filled with the sounds of stringed mastery, as sharp cords ascended into the air. The previously dormant mesh of LEDs sprang to life moments later, with dusty, distinct figures dancing across it, moving with grace and pomp. The screen cycled the figures through colors, moving them through steps better suited for a ballroom. Clank stared up at the screen, mesmerized, and even Ratchet appeared slightly enchanted.

Suddenly, the music changed, and the scene of the dusty dancers warped itself into chaos as one of the figures onscreen shot his dance partner dead, appearing to take a hostage as the music became more frenzied and dark. The figured parted way for a cloaked figure in ice blue to step forth, daring to approach the madman. Shots were fired, but they seemed to have minimal effect, until the cloaked form raised a hand high, performing some sort of gesture... and suddenly the madman's arm began to shake, before he collapsed and the scene dissolved back into pixellated dust.

When the screen finally blacked out, Ratchet noticed a Lombax perched at the top of the screen, cloaked in that same ice-blue. The music had evolved into a roar, as she stood upon the edge, grasping a staff of some kind . . . and leapt off.

Her cloak fluttered as she twirled in her descent, resembling a large pair of batlike wings as she dived on down. Twisting in the air, she turned herself upright, the cloak flying free now as it flew up, revealing a navy-blue exoskeleton that clung to an otherwise shapely figure. Her feet hit the ground first, followed by her staff, as she landed, before springing up to her full height, her head still cloaked.

The figure glanced towards the procession, who now halted in mid-note. "Why the music now? It means less the more you play it, just because you feel like it..."

Aria stood up stiff. "We've brought Ratchet, Madam, as you requested."

"Aha, I see . . . well done then, Deputy Aria."

"Who ARE you!" Ratchet spoke, now annoyed at realizing the fresh show of bravado was aimed for him. "While we're at it, who the fuck do you think you are?"

The figure smiled. "Ever the vigilante, as always, I see . . . "

"I want answers, now!"

She smirked, before lowering her hood, to reveal a fresh face, perky ears with two small, silver earrings near the tip of her left ear, an array of shoulder-length field-brown hair, and a small circlet headband that looked like a tiara at certain angles. "Jigsaw. Protectorate of Veldin. Your successor."

"I'm not impressed."

She flashed a quick grin on Ratchet, but her disarming smile had no such effect, and he simply crossed his arms. "What, is the armor too much for you? I would doubt it given what you're wearing . . . "

"I'm not a fan of upstarts running around playing Galactic Ranger while the real heroes go and get themselves killed doing the real work." Ratchet narrowed his eyes.

Jigsaw's eyes went even narrower. "What part of me isn't 'real', Mr. Ratchet? Just because I didn't go and get myself captured at the same time as everyone else, only to be forced into killing for sport and ratings?"

"Something like that."

"Well, then . . ." she leapt backwards, her cloak flipping out to look like wings again for a split second before she sticked the landing about ten meters away, forcing the people there to fan out. "Why don't you try and show me what DreadZone taught you, Mr. Ratchet? Show me what being Vox's slave did to you!"

Ratchet grinned, reaching to pull out a harbinger, but Aria's bow struck him in the wrist. "I will NOT tolerate fighting within Elysium! And shame on you for encouraging him, Madam Jigsaw!"

"My apologies. I just happen to be eager to find out what he thinks he's learned that I haven't." Jigsaw walked back towards him, keeping an even keel. "After all, he seems to think he's my superior."

"An apparent lie, Madam Jigsaw, most certainly."

"But, Deputy, since you seem to feel that the only way to deal with Mr. Ratchet is violence, we ought to take this outside, yes? Perhaps to the Gardens?"

Aria nodded, mouth tight. "The gardens would be more suited for this, yes."

"Very well then. I'll see you all in a few minutes. Make sure Mr. Ratchet is ready." Jigsaw smiled, then leaned over towards Ratchet. "I'd hate to defeat the 'DreadZone Champion' under false circumstances."

Ratchet's skin stood on end as she whispered, his veins turning to ice for a brief moment. Her words struck a nerve, but his eyes were more focused on the choker about her neck. The mix of metal and tubing was unmistakable, but the contents of the tubing had long been emptied, the main 'jewel' of the choker cracked and empty.

Jigsaw walked off past the crowd, heading for the exit, as Clank and Al stood by Ratchet.

"Clank, did I just see what I think I saw?" Ratchet kept his eyes on Jigsaw as she walked out.

"It was a little difficult to tell from my angle, but the circuitry signal was unmistakable. I'd be a fool to have forgotten it so soon."

Al pulled out a small datapad, pressing a few buttons to bring up the right schematic. "No doubting it from here, Ratchet — going by that signal, that choker of hers is almost an exact duplicate of your old DeadLock collar."

Ratchet shook his head. "That's not a duplicate. That one's already detonated."

"But what you're implying is technologically impossible." Clank explained, looking worried, before turning to Al. "Isn't it?"

"I'd have to take a closer look at what she's got. Maybe if you can incapacitate her long enough for me to scan in the schematics directly from her model, I can figure out if it's authentic or just some costume merchandise." Al's eyes light up at the idea. "Although that's . . . rather creepy for merchandise . . ."


	4. Sealed in Blood

_Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance  
Another heartache, another failed romance  
On and on, does anybody know what we are living for? _

- "The Show Must Go On", by Queen

**Chapter 3  
Sealed in Blood**

* * *

The Gardens were already ready and waiting as Ratchet descended the hewn stone steps down to the main pitch. Aria waited at the entrance, with Jigsaw beside her, and a good-sized crowd set up around the perimeter. It was an exclusively Lombax affair, except for what looked to be a large pink lion watching with bemusement. 

Aria glanced up at Ratchet, who was keeping his eyes wisely on Jigsaw herself. "In the interest of fairness, since Jigsaw challenged you, I'm giving you the choice of her weapon in this affair. You can pick your own as well, but you can only bring one for this."

"What're my options?"

Aria smiled slightly, holding up a pair of dual vipers in the one hand, and a violin in the other. Ratchet blinked in disbelief, then tried to stifle a laugh. Jigsaw glanced over at him, not amused. "What's so funny?"

"You're planning to attack me with a violin? What are you going to do with that, bore me to death?" Ratchet was trying hard not to laugh, and even Al and Clank looked amused.

"If you're so confident I don't know how to properly use it, why don't you make me use it against you?" She leaned forward. "After all, you'd be amazed what music can do to the savage beast."

"You're on." He turned back to Aria. "Give her the fiddle. I'll take the vipers."

She casually handed him the weaponry, while Jigsaw took hold of the violin, tuning it into pitch as she walked to her end of the field, a minor force field popping up at the midway point once she crossed it. Ratchet quickly calibrated his own weapons, spinning one viper around on a finger.

Al suddenly looked worried, his eyes on Jigsaw. "I'd be careful, Ratchet."

"What's to worry about? She's fighting with a fiddle!"

"So? You fight with a wrench."

"Yeah, but I can still smack people with the damn thing. What's she going to try on me with that?" Ratchet glanced over at Jigsaw again, still readying herself.

"Just . . . be careful, Ratchet. Please."

Ratchet nodded, before stepping forth into his starting position. Clank and Al moved to a safe spot behind the ledge of the pitch, and Aria double-checked the Gardens, waiting for her signal from Jigsaw.

Jigsaw nodded, placing her bow upon the strings, the violin tucked tightly under her chin, and with the first note, the field fell.

Ratchet's first instinct was to race towards Jigsaw, moving in a slight arc as he rained down on her. Jigsaw's music changed slightly as she moved to dodge the first few shots, moving in a distinct arc as well. Her music had a haphazard beat to it at first, but quickly began to crescendo.

Ratchet kept firing, trying to move in closer, but Jigsaw kept moving, snaking, zigzagging, all the while playing that music. Finally, for a moment Ratchet saw the pattern to her motions, and nailed her with a direct shot to the solar plexus, knocking Jigsaw down, but not out. Her violin was still intact, so she kept playing, the music still rising, the frenzy in the beat swelling up.

Ratchet didn't notice the music seeping in at first. He just thought he was firing to the beat, trying to second-guess Jigsaw's next movements and leaps, every now and then making a fair hit, but never stopping her music. It just kept rising . . . the music began to drown out the sound of recoil . . .

Jigsaw moved in for her chance, coming in close, still tacking her way across the field to dodge Ratchet's shots. Not that they needed dodging anymore . . . the shots were to the music, and she controlled the music. She kept the music going, coming in close enough for Ratchet to see the plugs in her ears.

As soon as he saw that, the music hit him.

Jigsaw hiked up her grip on the violin, sending a shrieking melody an octave higher than before, and this time, Ratchet felt it. His armor shook, vibrating with a thunderous roar, leaving the Lombax to yelp in pain. The helmet shook against him... it was crushing him! Hurting him! He had to get it off, fast!

The helmet pulled back with a shudder as Ratchet yelped in pain, for the first time in ages, in a state of pain he was never aware of before. Jigsaw unleashed her second wave of melody, and this time Ratchet clutched at his ears to try and stop the pain, dropping his vipers. He stopped as soon as he realized he'd let them go, then tried to pick them back up and fire again. He missed badly, and all the while Jigsaw's music became worse.

The music seeped further into his brain, piercing it, shaking it, leaving Ratchet to fall to his knees, trying to do anything he could think of to stop the pain, clawing at his ears and making them bleed.

He curled up tight, trying to keep the noise out, but then his eyes opened wide in horror. An image of unspeakable fear and horror crept in with the music, and for an instant, he was only in his mind.

_A scrawny, naked rodent, Ratchet was left among the stones of a dirty, dusky dungeon, abandoned for dead, and as good as dead, the ropes and chains holding him tight. The iced touch of the deadlock collar was the only thing he seemed to feel, as a shadowy figure swirled into view, fangs dripping, claws extended, eyes narrow and glowing._

_"Finally, you face your fate, for the lives you have snuffed. You have caused untold destruction and chaos among this galaxy . . . and yet you live like it hasn't affected you at all?" It spoke to him. "You should be a hero! An example! A model! You act like a child!" The figure shook its head. "If anything was going to make you see your path, surely your vengeance would have done so?"_

_Ratchet found himself unable to speak, as the figure bent down, and in an instant, it was Ace Hardlight himself. "Surely making me see the light would show you your own?"_

"I DON'T NEED THE LIGHT!" Ratchet cried out, still in pain. "LET ME GO! GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

"Time!" Jigsaw called to Aria, who flashed up a series of hand gestures as Jigsaw pulled out her earplugs. "Nine fourty-seven? Damn, strong head for a maiden-attack like that."

The lion was heard to whistle, while the remainder of the crowd clapped, believing the match to be over, and more concerned with both competitors still being alive versus who actually won.

Al merely shuddered, however, watching Ratchet with fear. "Did you get all that, Clank?"

"My cir-circuits are h-having a hard time w-with the sonar damage." Clank spoke, having a hard time synthesizing his speech.

Al nodded. "Jigsaw knew how to hit multiple-resonance with that violin! I should have known! No wonder she offered Ratchet the option — she knew he'd go for the violin, and walk right into that trap!"

Back at the heat of the action, Jigsaw stared down at Ratchet, still howling and curled up. " I expected better. No matter." A dagger skittered forward, the tip cast in a pale gleam as Jigsaw saw it reach her intended aim, right in front of Ratchet's knees. He was still hunched over, hands clutching at his unarmored head, blood dripping down both sides of his ears and through his fingers.

He could be heard whimpering in a sound that even he had forgotten how to keen in: pain. "Make it stop . . . please . . . I can't take that anymore . . . get it out of my head . . ."

"Your escape is right in front of you." Jigsaw spoke, leading Ratchet to open his eyes and see the dagger. "A swift swipe, a little blood spilled, and this will all be over, quick as that. Don't worry about the side effects. I assure you, suicide is painless . . . and if it isn't, well, you won't be worrying about it for long, right?"

At the distance of the garden's edge, Al and Clank strained to cry out to Ratchet, to help him somehow, while the rest of the crowd in attendance appeared to be silent, too scared to speak. How was it possible, plausible, even thinkable, that Jigsaw could convince Ratchet — who destroyed the head of an interplanetary corporation out of the sheer will to survive — to commit suicide merely because she commanded it of him?

Ratchet took hold of the dagger, bringing it up, the edge to his neck as he glared at Jigsaw, standing there, unfastening her cloak in anticipation of the spray of blood. And in that moment, everyone got the answer to their unspoken question as to how:

It wasn't.

Ratchet lunged forward, going for the only unarmored point he could think of, and despite Jigsaw's attempt to dodge, sunk the dagger into her neck just above her busted collar, spraying back with the darkest of ruby blood. Time stood still in that moment, before Ratchet tumbled forward, rolling across the stone floor, while Jigsaw fell, left to lie upon the granite. The crowd quickly started murmuring, horrified at what they saw.

The Lombax stood up, glancing back towards his fallen opponent, feeling that instinctual yet customary pang of regret as he stared down at her. But his remorse quickly switched to shock as he saw her move. First a finger, then the arm, then the rest of herself as she rolled over, before slowly standing up, staggering. She stared at him as she pulled the dagger out of her neck, tasting the blood upon the blade, and then the hilt.

Ratchet didn't have time to process exactly what to say to an opponent who could apparently resurrect herself, and quickly fell back to more comfortable emotions. "What the fuck?"

The Protectorate chuckled, then coughed. "I see I underestimated you, Ratch-." She coughed again, holding her wound with one hand. "-et. I must admit, you're not the first to refuse the easy way out, but you're damn well the first to actually go for the correct solution . . . " She grinned. "We should save the rest of this battle for a more opportune time . . . for now, truce?"

Ratchet took a step back as she offered him her bloodstained hand, almost horrified. A moment of disbelief passed before he put his own hand out to shake it, their respective blood and the nanotech within mixing and mingling, causing a slight discharge of light as the two sealed with a shake.

Jigsaw still had a slight grin on her face, despite staring at Ratchet with a crazed look. "Now, do me a small favor, my new 'friend' . . . carry me inside?"

With this, her eyes rolled back and she fell forward, her head landing right in Ratchet's arms. Al quickly ran out onto the stones, with Clank only a length or two behind.

Al stopped as he approached the pair, checking his shoes for blood stains first before examining Jigsaw. "Resilient one, isn't she?"

"No kidding . . ." Ratchet shook his head as he adjusted his grip to better carry the rest of her body as well. "I don't get it. That should have done her in . . ."

"Per-er-er-haps you missed?" Clank offered as a means of an excuse, his own circuits still having trouble processing the information.

"Missed on purpose is more like it!" Ratchet looked up as he saw Deputy Aria walking out towards the four. "I should have expected something like this was going to happen."

Ratchet jerked his head back in reflexive insult. "Hey, she made it a deathmatch, not me!"

"I don't quite care right now." Aria glanced down at Jigsaw, despite Al's hovering hand over her neck. "She's lucky to be alive as is."

"Luck has nothing to do with it, if my hypothesis is right." Al spoke up, raising a finger. "I think I've found something, but I need to do a little research online to be certain. Where's the nearest VaporNet port?"

"I'll take you to the nearest I know of. Ratchet, Clank, you two may as well follow, and make sure Madam Jigsaw doesn't lose any more blood. Make the medic's job easier." Aria replied, before walking off with Big Al, careful to stay on the non-metallic side of him.

Ratchet sighed, then started walking back towards Elysium, while Clank quickly gathered and folded up Jigsaw's discarded cloak. "Clank, something about Jigsaw just doesn't feel right."

"You me-e-an with her uncanny resilience to your last att-tat-tat-ack?" Clank struggled to get the last bit of her cloak to fold up right, his speech circuits still fried.

"No . . . okay, a little. But something else about her is just plain creepy. It almost doesn't feel like she's . . . y'know, normal."

"You're hardly the poster child for the average Lombax yourself, Ratchet." Clank opted to carry the cloak above his head. "Perhaps a little time with her while she heals up will make you worry about her less."

Ratchet glanced down at his fallen competitor, noting how the blood flow from the wound had already ceased. "I hope you're right."


	5. Dreadful Results

_Give me time I will be clear.  
Given time you'll understand  
What possesses me to right what you have suffered.  
I'm in this mood because of scorn.  
I'm in a mood for total war . . ._

- "Darkangel", by VNV Nation

**Chapter 4  
Dreadful Results**

* * *

Jigsaw lain on the medic's table, still unconscious, stripped of her exoskeleton armor, leaving only a loose shirt and a pair of culottes on her person, in addition to the strange choker around her neck. She'd stopped bleeding, but Ratchet was still there, assisting the medic, a slightly spry male with grayed fur on the edges; the sort of fellow who wasn't old enough not to notice a pretty thing on his table, but too jaded from experience to care. 

"You're just getting in the way right now, fellow." The medic explained, as he made a cursory check of Jigsaw's forms. "The girl ought to be fine once I hook her up to a proper IV drip."

"She's going to be fine after taking a knife to the neck!" Ratchet blinked, incredulous.

"You only hit her on the side, boy. I'm guessing it was your first time doing so, too."

The sarcasm was just dripping off Ratchet's voice. "You think?"

"It's next to impossible to fatally slice a victim's throat while they're able to struggle." The medic explained. "As is, I halfway think she let you get that close. Either way, since she was up and walking and talking a little too well for someone who's just been slashed, I'm willing to wager that her current condition is just anemia, and while the wound's a nasty one, it's superficial."

The medic smirked, holding up a blood bag and setting up the drip. Ratchet watched him, still in disbelief. "So I can't do anything to help right now?"

"Maybe once she comes to enough to carry on a little conversation. Come back in an hour or so, and maybe enough of the transfusion'll have gone in by then to wake her up for you."

Ratchet nodded, glancing down at Jigsaw's prone form again. She didn't seem like a callous, calculating witch from here . . . She actually looked rather cute, with quite a form underneath all that armor. But this wasn't the time to be staring too long at her, so Ratchet walked off, lost in thought.

He eventually made his way towards Big Al and Clank, sitting in a alcove of a series of VaporNet terminals, currently abandoned except for the three of them. Clank was the first to spot Ratchet, and the little robot ran over to him.

Ratchet reached out to hug Clank, but Clank had other things on his mind. "What's her condition?"

Ratchet glanced down. "Doctor said to check back in an hour. And why do you care anyway?"

"She's obviously important here. Regardless of how you feel about her claiming your old position, it wouldn't do us much good to incapacitate a government official so soon after returning to the planet's surface."

"Yeah? Well keep in mind who's 'really' supposed to be the Protectorate around here, okay?"

"I don't think so, Ratchet." Clank shook his head. "Madam Aria made it clear that Jigsaw took your position legitimately. If you want your job back, you'll need to solve some new planetary crisis in order to depose her."

"Maybe, but . . . I don't get her at all. She doesn't even look like she should have any experience with actual battle, let alone enough of a hero to end up in Elysium like this."

"Perhaps a little more time is needed to understand."

"And maybe I want to find out what the deal with that collar is . . . Hey, Al! Got anything over there?"

"Come over here and see for yourself!" Al cried back, leaving Ratchet and Clank to sprint over.

Ratchet looked up at the impressive cluster of screens, all tuned to search engines and diagrams. "So . . . what have we here?"

"Well, my hunch about her collar was right after all." Al shook his head, turning away from the screens. "That's definitely a DreadZone-brand DeadLock collar, and Version 1.0, at that."

Ratchet blinked in surprise. "1.0? You mean someone's actually put enough thought into that thing to _redesign _it?"

Al nodded and pulled up a separate screen, showing a high-resolution model of the collar. "It gets more sadistic from here. The Deadlock collars are designed off of what used to be known as 'Battle Royale' necklaces. Vox reverse-engineered the design and added some higher-grade explosives into it, as well as setting up the tubing to go around the neck for maximum . . . well, effect."

"Like they needed to be made any deadlier." Ratchet mumbled.

"To put this into perspective, the 'Royale' necklaces had lower-grade explosives, were more tamper-resistant before exploding, and typically produced a very 'inward' explosion designed to pierce the jugular veins and bleed the wearer to death. The DeadLock collars reduced this resistance to tampering and were meant to produce a more visual, decapitating effect." Al gulped, before looking back at the collar. "This version was later redesigned because it's center 'jewel' still focused more of the explosive material on the front of the neck, and hence didn't always sever the head properly."

Ratchet just held his neck, slightly disgusted, while Clank looked up at the screen. "So how did Miss Jigsaw's collar go off without destroying itself?"

"I have no idea. The only reason I even have this much information about the Version 1 collar is because they recovered an intact one off of another contender. Though how it found its way out of the Shadow Sector and into Blackwater City's Cryo-Repositories is anybody's guess."

Clank hopped up into Al's lap, reaching for the terminal. Al jerked back in shock, but after a touch of a few buttons, Clank had pulled up a new window with the DreadZone logo superimposed on it. The computer began to speak. "Welcome to DreadWiki, the galaxy's foremost online collaborative DreadZone resource. Would you like to search for a specific item, view today's featured DreadZone Article on the 'Road to Valhalla', or watch the sponsored commercial for 'DreadZone Divas: Uncensored', now available for a reserve price of 4,999 bolts?"

Ratchet's eyes lit up. "Damn, Vox really DID have those cameras everywhere, didn't he?"

"Ratchet!" Clank chided him.

"Aw, c'mon, I'd like to see it too!" Al responded, putting Clank back down on the floor. "Commercial!"

"Request approved. Loading video in 3 . . . 2 . . ."

The screen went black, only to reappear with a panned shot of DreadZone's BattleDome, along with Dallas's voice narrating the commercial. "This is what you've been waiting for, DreadZone fans! We have the footage that Gleeman Vox never wanted you to see!"

The camera shot switched to what looked to be a casting call area full of milling aliens and malformed individuals, where Juanita took over the voiceover. "After the death of DreadZone's exterminator captain in season two, Vox meticulously sealed up all traces of DreadZone's first two seasons, including several in-house videos, never-before-seen interviews, the unparalleled 'worse-than-death' matches, and the wildly popular tourist destination 'Club Dread'!"

"But now we're free from Vox's grip, and so is this footage!" Dallas spoke as the scene changed to an arena battle featuring a tall, lizard-like creature putting a scorpion flail to good use. "Finally, the tales from seasons one and two that Vox hid away for so long, featuring your favorite gladiators!"

Juanita spoke up. "But that's not all! With the destruction of DreadZone, three contestants have come out of hiding to tell their amazing tales of survival and escape through cheating not only Vox, but death itself!" Three silhouettes appeared on screen in black, all wielding weapons of some kind. A pink lion centaur came into view first on the right side of the screen, decked in golden armor and wielding a scimitar. "From the savage centaur tribes of planet Aridia, relive the search for redemption as told by Adari'a Ku'vou, second class exterminator!"

Dallas took over at this point as the tall lizard, sporting blonde hair and ruby-red armor, came into view holding her scorpion flail. "Listen to the heartwarming tale of riches to rags to riches again, as multi-millionaire media heiress Cypress Vox reveals all about how she survived her own father's attempt to sacrifice her to the altar of mayhem known as DreadZone!"

"And last but most certainly not least of all," Juanita spoke, "We have the story of DreadZone's finest heroine, who managed to not only help rescue both of her fellow competitors, but hoodwinked Vox himself to the very end, playing herself off as the Crown Jewel of DreadZone while orchestrating its eventual downfall! DreadZone's first and only female exterminator captain, the one, the only . . ."

The last figure came into view, and at this point Ratchet's eyes rolled into the back of his head, fainting backwards. Clank had to run to catch Ratchet before he hit the floor.

". . . the 'Vampire of Veldin' herself, Jigsaw Forte!"


	6. Who Died and Made You Boss?

_When I ran I didn't feel like a runaway,  
When I escaped I didn't feel like I got away,  
There's more to living than only surviving,  
Maybe I'm not there, but I'm still trying . . ._

- "Staring at the Sun", by The Offspring

**Chapter 5  
Who Died and Made You Boss?**

* * *

Jigsaw's eyes fluttered as she came to, and a host of thoughts attacked her at once. In her current state of loose consciousness, she just laid back and let it flow in. The mental sink that usually came just as she woke from torpor always demanded to be filled, even though in a hospital bay it wasn't much of anything good. 

The first wave of thoughts just crackled as static. Robot mind. Useless, boisterous, noisy data-static that she never bothered to translate and half the time didn't care to. As far as she was concerned, until they could program a robot's mind to keep his thoughts at a different level than the rest of him, it took too much effort to scan through for any answers — especially when its programmer was usually close enough to the machine to go after instead.

The second wave was also noisy static, but some of it came through with the clarity of a normal being. Cybernetic mind. Bad but doable, especially when the mind happened to be giving off a rather nagging, constant emotion. This one was upset, along with some confusion... and a bad mental image of what Jigsaw would look like dressed as Courtney Gears. Jigsaw instinctively wrinkled her nose at the thought.

The third wave came in with amazing clarity. Living mind, currently extremely impassioned, very pissed off. Current objects in mind were the DreadWiki, herself lying on the table, her collar . . . and a B6 Obliterator?

The reaction was immediate. "Don't even THINK about it, Ratchet." She hissed, her eyes still shut.

"The hell? I hadn't even pulled out a weapon yet!" Ratchet blinked, then leapt off of Big Al's back. His landing was still a little woozy from having fainted before.

"Emphasis on yet." She opened her eyes, then turned to look at him. "I have a hard time believing your motives towards me are completely altruistic at this point."

" . . . so you DID put that image in my head before." Ratchet frowned, more of Jigsaw's power becoming apparent. "I'm amazed these people trust you here."

"You make me sound like I'm some criminal."

Ratchet smirked. "Well, you _did_ work as one of Vox's exterminators. I'd say that's a damn good reason to call you a fiend."

Jigsaw sat up, turning her head to glare at him. "You know NOTHING about what I did on that leech's money."

"I can take a few guesses." Ratchet hissed back.

"Ratchet, would it kill you to ease up a little?" Al snapped, catching both of their attention. "Jigsaw's right. We don't know what DreadZone was like in its first two seasons; it's possible that maybe she has a perfectly understandable reason for ending up in her position."

"Besides," Clank interjected, "That commercial did say she saved both those other girls, so whatever she was doing, she couldn't have been completely malicious."

Ratchet pouted, "Oh . . . all right. I'll hold off taking her head off until I at least see the video. Did you guys already put down a reserve on it?"

"You know, I already have an advance copy . . . " Jigsaw smirked, rolling her eyes. "She won't like me showing it to you guys rather than getting paid for a fresh disc, but if it'll get you to lend your interplanetary expertise . . ."

"You have a mission for us?" Ratchet perked up.

"We can watch it now?" Al stood up straight.

Clank walked over to Jigsaw. "Who is this 'she', anyway?"

"Let me take a crazy guess . . ." A new voice boomed, as a large, vaguely familiar figure cast a shadow on the floor, the grayed medic a few steps ahead of her, coming down a sister corridor to the room. ". . . you were referrin' to me, right, Jigs?"

Jigsaw turned to face the shadow, and smirked. "Now you know good and well who I meant right there, ya big hippie!"

"Watch it!" The figure came into view, and Ratchet winced — skirted suit or not without that mess of blonde hair and slightly slenderized figure, what would've been the spitting image of Gleeman Vox himself just walked into the room. It took Ratchet a minute to see the subtle hints and differences — the longer snout, the elongated eyes, the slight bluish undertones in her skin, the lack of a bionic arm, and the addition of a distinct golden necklace with a stylized 'V' hanging around the collar of her suit, this was anyone but Gleeman. "Once I get this damned lawsuit under control, 'hippie' will be the last thing anyone thinks of me!"

Al blinked. "You must be-."

"Cypress Vox, at your service." The large lizard held out a hand, and Al took it after a brief moment of hesitation. "Allow me to be the first to apologize for the horrible conditions you must've been in over the past year, and -!"

"Horrible doesn't even cover it." Ratchet remarked, arms crossed, unimpressed.

Cypress turned, glancing towards Ratchet with a glimmer of wonder in her eyes. "Oh my . . . we've got quite the show-stopper here, don't we? You must be this 'Ratchet' fellow I've heard so much about."

"Yeah, so what do you plan to do about tha- HEY! Put me dow-! Woah, woah, easy now, girl . . ." Ratchet tried to look tough, but soon found himself scooped up and tightly hugged by the scaly giant. "Erk . . . "

Jigsaw laughed as the medic walked over to her IP drip, preparing to remove it. "Careful, Cypress; he does need to breathe after all."

"I'd have thought killing someone's father would have drawn a significantly opposite response." Clank remarked.

Cypress stopped for a moment, glancing down at Clank. "I all but disowned that man years ago."

"Not enough to stay away from Daddy's money, apparently . . ." Jigsaw muttered, testing the bandage on her arm now that the needle was gone.

"Come on, it's not even half of what it used to be, what with that space station blown up." Cypress replied. "Besides, as much hell as he put me through, he damn well owes it to me!"

"If that were your only claim to his fortune, you'd have to pry it out of my hands first." The female Lombax replied, eyes narrow in an all-knowing look.

Cypress groaned. "Like I needed to be reminded . . ."

Ratchet tried to take advantage of the lull, only pulling himself further into Cypress's grip. "Hello . . . someone put me down, please? Don't we have actual business to discuss here?"

"Ah, right!" With that, Ratchet tumbled to the floor, Vox letting him loose. "We did have actual reasons for asking you here, after all . . ."

"We?" Al blinked.

Jigsaw nodded, leaping off the medic's table. "Hey, I had to ask you here for something a little more tangible than petty revenge, right? As it is, I've got an interesting little case on my hands here, but I figured it could do with a more, shall we say . . . eclectic touch?"

Ratchet smirked. "All yours."

"Good. Now, if you'll let me get my suit on and follow Cypress out of here, we'll catch you up with what data she's been able to pick up for me so far. I'll see you all in the Lymere confrence room in about ten minutes." With this, Jigsaw sauntered out of the room, and Cypress made a signal to follow her at a slightly slower pace.

Ratchet followed, with Al and Clank quickly catching up with him, all following Cypress down the corridors. As they were walking, Ratchet bent down, leaning towards Clank. "Do me a favor, pal."

"You want background checks on both of them?" Clank lit up, trying to keep at a whisper.

"Maybe later." Ratchet shook his head. "What's 'eclectic' mean?"


	7. Preview with a Problem

_You're right on time, so invite me in  
This is where your trouble begins  
But I like you better than the other ones . . ._

- "Nothing Could Come Between Us", by Theory of a Deadman

**Chapter 6  
Preview with a Problem**

* * *

"Hello there, fans, I'm Dallas Fairfields,-." 

"-I'm Juanita Ksetko, and we're your hosts for 'DreadZone Divas: Uncensored'!" Juanita spoke, legs crossed as she sat on the stool, with no announcer's table restricting the camera's view. "You may know us better as the announcers for DreadZone, as well as the anchors for the Vox News Network, or perhaps simply as 'those two morons spouting crap on the holovision', depending on your opinion of us at the time."

"It wasn't always that way, though, Juanita!" Dallas cooed, once again mispronouncing his co-host's name. "Despite the sadistic, diabolical bent that DreadZone slipped into in its last two seasons — what with kidnapping heroes and forcing them to perform lethal, dangerous stunts on galactic holovision, all the while holding their very lives hostage — it was a completely different tale to tell when this wild and crazy series began!"

"Indeed, Dallas." The screen behind the two announcers switched to show a rare, press-manufactured shot of Gleeman Vox and his daughter Cypress, standing side by side, both smiling. "DreadZone initially began as a joint project between the Gleeman's renowned Vox Network, and his daughter's collegiate startup, Vox Sports, as a reality-based alternative to the wildly successful yet heavily formulaic and staged professional wrestling and unarmed combat circuits on competing networks."

"And while DreadZone was always highly lethal, instead of the famous heroes and battle-hardened veterans that populated the show in later years, at its inception the show represented a last resort of high-profile criminals, Death Row denizens, and fugitives the galaxy over!" The screen flashed through a series of images of these 'early' contestants, including a few large robots, a masked angel with large, colorful wings, and what appeared to be a slate-gray Lombax with bluish stripes.

The screen then went through a series of stills from matches, including one of Ace Hardlight with a cocked pistol, while Juanita continued. "And among them where DreadZone's few — and probably only — volunteers; heroes with tarnished pasts, retired military officers looking once again for the heat of battle, or merely those who could no longer stand the world around them. And from them all, only a few would rise to become Exterminators, the instruments of justice, the privileged elite, the ones that stood half a chance of surviving their missions!"

"How could such a show morph from an entertaining new way to execute hardened criminals, into the lethal, gut-wrenching death trap we all know it as? The answers are all in here! We have it all, from the origin of the DeadLock collars, the meteoric rise of Ace Hardlight, and even how Gleeman Vox picked up that robotic arm of his!"

"And of course, as promised, we have three of DreadZone's most memorable early contestants in our studios to enlighten us along the way!" Juanita turned to the screen, where we see Cypress, Adari'a, and Jigsaw all sitting on a cramped couch; more to the point, Cypress is actually on the couch, Adari'a is half-sprawled on the couch and half in Cypress's lap, and Jigsaw is sitting on Adari'a's back, in between the both of them. "Oh my! Is everyone comfortable over there?"

"After all that footage, and you're asking us if we're comfortable NOW?" Cypress snorted, unamused. "All things considered, damn comfy!"

Dallas nodded. "Just wanted to be sure, Miss Vox, seeing how we'll be under your direction with any luck soon."

"Thank you, Dallas, but we're fine."

"Excellent, excellent." Dallas replied. "Just a few minor details before we continue with this presentation. Miss Forte . . ." Dallas spoke, and Jigsaw quickly sat up straight, almost like a child in fear of a scolding. " . . . as I'm sure you're already aware, there's some 'questionable content' included in our archives, which unfortunately is rather relevant to our Season Two footage. I realize that your waiver from the start of DreadZone already covers and clears us to show this footage, but we still wanted to do a final check with you to-."

"Do it." She spoke, slightly tense.

Dallas raised an eyebrow, dropping his voice a little in a 'the crowd need not know' tone. "Sure about this? We could just skim over the details, if you'd rather."

"It's been . . . long enough." She bit her lip. "I can handle it."

"Well, all right then!" Dallas spun back around, perma-grin on his face. "Also, for the benefit of our younger DreadZone fans, at this time we would like to inform you that some of the footage on these discs is not appropriate for children. Parental discretion is advised. If you can't take the time to review the material in advance, please adjust the special 'censor' guidelines in the options menu, adjustable by language, gore, and sexual content. But now that the boilerplate's out of the way, let's get going!"

_-zloop!-_

"HEY! We were watching that!" Ratchet barked as the holovision turned off. He turned around to see Jigsaw in her armored suit once again, armed with a remote, as well as her staff from before. Her face seemed slightly pained as she walked towards the front of the room.

Jigsaw glared at Cypress. "I thought we were waiting until after we briefed them on the mission to start showing the video."

"Hey, now, it's lure, then hook. They have to see a little before they want to see more, and _then_ we spring the details on them." Cypress shrugged. "But hey, you're the one with the mission guidelines, I'll hold up a little. Where's Addy?"

"I presume that lion-like creature from the Gardens is also this character you're referring to?" Clank asked, pointing towards the empty screen.

Jigsaw nodded. "Adari'a should be here momentarily. Not that she'll be holding up the mission briefing or anything." Jigsaw put her staff against the wall, pulling out the bow from her violin to gingerly tap the screen. "As long as we've forced an intermission into our 'feature presentation', let's go over what we've actually run into that needs dealing with. Cypress, if you'd please?"

The lizard nodded, before switching from the video stream over to a presentation's slide show, first featuring a large blast ring caught in a still frame. "As you three might not be aware of, Cypress Vox 'came out of hiding' roughly a month ago immediately after the destruction of DreadZone Station, upon which her father was still on board." The presentation switched to a slide showing a series of scruffy, suited, and undeniably sour men. "When she attempted to claim her role as CEO of Vox Enterprises, she immediately came up against the Board of Directors — little more than yes-men under Gleeman's watch, but important in this case as Gleeman's will apparently named them all as inheritors to his estate. The current lawsuit involving them primarily centers around whether Gleeman's will is still legally binding, as it was technically changed after Cypress's assumed death and hence could be interpreted as an emergency measure to cover the gap left by her loss."

"So what do we have to do with this?" Al spoke, his arms wrapped around a sizable tub of popcorn.

"As far as the suit itself goes? Nothing for now; we don't go to court for at least another month at this current rate. However, while the suit is being deliberated, Cypress picked up a court order allowing her general access to the Vox Archives." The slide switched again, this time to an imposing library of holo-discs and storage details. "This is how we were able to construct the video we're currently 'paying' you with, even if we did have the ulterior motive of using the tapes in court before we released the video to the public. Along the way, we also picked up some disturbing footage, apparently leftover from a news reel but ended up mixed in with the DreadZone records we requisitioned. I hope none of you still have sensitive stomachs."

Jigsaw pulled back, and the new piece of footage began to play on the screen. It appeared to be in bad condition, possibly from a damaged camera, and was showing a dismal, gray factory floor, with machinery going in all directions, pistoning, pumping, and injecting plastic. After a few grainy moments of feed, a small figure in a lab coat became visible, dashing past the lens, clutching a clipboard to its chest, with a second technician in a lab coat only a few paces behind. Both were panicked, and both had large ears — a clear sign that these were both Lombaxes. Robotic crews were seen chasing behind in the footage, before the camera's view jumped to another camera with a new vantage point.

The two technicians were seen helping each other climb up some live machinery, one pulling the other up and out of the line of fire as the robotic security screws started firing on them. Moments later, a segment of still-steaming pipe dropped onto the robotic crews, smashing them soundly, before the two technicians pushed onwards.

The camera switched again, going to one last vantage point, with the two technicians running to a doorway just off-screen, as the factory's security systems started to go online, doors were starting to close, and suddenly, one of the technicians tripped, dropping his clipboard. The second one ran after the clipboard, just narrowly missing a steel door slamming down behind him, and the pained "AAAAGHH!" of his partner.

"Newton!" The tech cried out, seeing his partner's new state. The steel door had crashed down right on Newton's midsection, leaving him trapped under the door, and most likely quite crushed, as a pool of blood could already be seen forming under him.

"Dimitri . . . get out of here. At least one of us has to make it . . ."

"Brother, please... let me free you. Some Nanotech should do it."

"No time . . . besides, I'll lose too much blood if you pry me loose. Take the plans . . . Veldin needs . . . urgh . . ."

Newton groaned, trying to remain conscious, but Dimitri was still panicking, and the light streaming through the off-screen doorway was starting to close. Dimitri grabbed the clipboard and dove through the doorway, out to assumed freedom. Newton reached a hand out towards the doorway, as if straining still, before collapsing, and the feed cutting off.

The clip took a few moments to sink in, before Ratchet bit his lip. "Shit . . ."

"Exactly. It'd be one thing if this was the sign of some galactic menace like what you're used to, but I'm trying to not only figure out what ol' Dimitri up there has his mitts on, but exactly why it pertains to Veldin so much." Jigsaw shook her head. "Whatever it is, it had to be serious."

Ratchet shook his head for a few moments to clear it. "Where did you get this footage from? And when was this?"

"The newsreel this footage was included with appears to be only a week or so old. As for where, the original tape's tag info appears to be encrypted, if not corrupted," Cypress replied, "but I can take some good guesses based on the footage alone. In frame 219 we get a clear shot of Dimitri's lab coat insignia; frame 347 gives us the best shot we have of the large machinery those two were scaling, which appears to be some sort of large-scale gas production chamber. On top of all this, frame 532 lets us see Newton's right wrist, which has a rather distinctive gauntlet on it. I'd say this was one of GadgetTron's research facilities we're seeing footage of here, but . . . something doesn't add up."

"Yeah, the insignia's all wrong." Al spoke, mouth half-full. "That's not GadgetTron, or even Vox Enterprises."

"You recognize it?" Jigsaw asked, glancing towards Al.

"Sort of. It's a company I used to work with before I started my RoboShack business. Not nearly big enough to compete with GadgetTron, at least not when I was with them . . . but sizeable. If they're who I think they are, they're called CosmoGear, and that should be their core research center on Quartu."

Jigsaw nodded. "Knew you'd come in handy. Okay, then . . . to Quartu it is. We find Dimitri and either convince him to cough up what it is he's hiding, or I'll pry the information out of him myself.

Ratchet stretched, before leaping out of his chair to stand up. "What if Dimitri's not on the planet, let alone alive by the time we get there?"

"Then this will be where you get to teach me how to infiltrate a factory, so we can try to extract the information ourselves. Or, if these people needed our main interests that badly, we might find Newton there to give us the scoop anyway."

"I'd say 'Newton' has been soundly terminated from what we just watched." Clank replied, not convinced.

Jigsaw shrugged. "Maybe if the DreadZone chapter you got a taste of finishes up before we reach Quartu, I'll have Adari'a tell you all about how easy it is to bring someone back from the dead . . . at least, when they want to be."


	8. A Taur, a Tone, and a Taste

_The first rock thrown again  
Welcome to hell, little Saint  
Mother Gaia in slaughter  
Welcome to paradise, soldier . . ._

_- "Planet Hell", by Nightwish_

**Chapter 7  
A Taur, a Tone, and a Taste**

* * *

" . . . wow, I've never heard of someone being cryogenically rebuilt like that!" Big Al's eyes lit up, walking a little closer to the large lion centaur. "My compliments to whoever sculpted those flanks!" 

"'Sculpted' nothing! Blackwater City may have put the pieces together, but this physique is all mine!" The centaur smirked, flipping her tail past Big Al's face. He nearly fainted right there.

Ratchet chuckled. "You know, you're not half bad for a former Exterminator."

Adari'a blushed, her corn rows standing out even further against her already-pink fur. "Yeah, well . . . I don't think that if I'd stayed I would've lasted to the time you got there, buddy. Bit of a drawback to having a lion's heart in a place like that."

"I'm guessing you didn't 'fit the profile' for an Exterminator?" Clank asked, looking up at her.

"I had my moments . . ." She remarked, picking the little robot up as though Clank were a toddler. "With any luck you'll see quite a few of them soon enough. Now have a seat, I want to start the disc soon."

"Start the show!" Ratchet smirked, vaulting over the couch's back to reach his seat. Clank and Al soon followed suit.

_-zloop-zip-zip!-_

The tape returned back to its previous position, starting on Juanita's voice. "As any good look back on a show starts — and DreadZone is no exception — DreadZone first needed to gather a fair amount of competitors. While the majority of DreadZone's future contestants and casualties were hand-picked from the meanest prisons across the Galaxy, Gleeman Vox found himself with the slightly-enviable task of interviewing the few who actually wanted to appear in our deadly new series."

The screen switched back to old footage, showing Gleeman Vox's office, although this time it wasn't filled with old Ace Hardlight merchandise. It looked to be the opulent sort of office one would expect of a media mogul, and for once, Gleeman looked at ease with himself.

"So . . . everything seems to check out as far as paperwork goes . . . which begs me to ask: What do you think you're doing here?" Gleeman hissed, and the camera cut to a series of replies, obviously trimmed from each interview.

First one was of a small Cezan male, slicking his mane back as he spoke. "It's my duty to deliver justice, even to this lawless sector of the galaxy!"

Next off was a younger, less haggard Ace Hardlight, although he still had on his signature pompadour and goatee. "These fiends you've hired for your show cannot be allowed back into normal society — I'm here to make sure of that."

After him stood Adari'a, tugging at her tunic and looking slightly nervous. "As it is, I'd be lumped in with the other lot if I didn't get over here and stay here."

Gleeman leaned over his desk. "I'm not sure I understand."

"My particular tribe back on Aridia has an old 'tradition' of demanding its members to breed under pain of rape and/or decapitation." She explained, crossing her arms. "Certain bylaws of that tradition would have me killed in approximately a week otherwise."

Gleeman still looked confused. "What makes you so sure?"

"The tribe just executed my 'partner', and for once I'd rather not go down with her." Adari'a replied.

"What does your 'partner' have to do with. . . oh . . ." Gleeman shut up, not sure what to say, before extending out a hand, a smirk on his face. "Welcome aboard, Miss Ku'vou!"

The interview scene cut away to a pale-blue room, where Adari'a was sitting, just looking at the camera. "Not what I had in mind when I first signed on, mind you — I don't think anyone goes into an interview planning to tell their new boss they're a lesbian, after all — but for some reason Gleeman didn't mind." She shrugged. "I almost think it made me more desirable to him as a worker."

The screen cut back into the interview area, this time with Jigsaw in the 'hot seat', and this time Gleeman seemed to be coaching her on. "Well, come on, out with it; there has to be some reason!"

Jigsaw shrugged, looking not entirely sure of herself, but studying everything around her. She seemed to keep her eyes on Gleeman, though, who now pulled himself up from his chair, walking around over to hers. "Look, Miss Forte, I know those big ears of yours work. Now exactly what part of my question are you having a problem with?" Gleeman glanced down at Jigsaw's unseemly, overly formal attire — an ice-blue dress with the one-armed shrug, similar to the outfits that Ratchet had seen on Aria and her crew. Vox frowned. "You don't even look like a fighter. You weren't put up to this by a boyfriend or something, were ya?"

"No, sir. I'm here on my own, sir." Jigsaw replied, sounding almost too formal. "I doubt my former band even knows I've left Metropolis, sir."

Vox rubbed his chin for a moment, looking down at his tiny applicant. "A runaway, eh? What's your story?"

"I . . . I didn't feel safe anymore, sir." She replied. "I need something more, sir. Something I feel your new show can provide, sir."

"Don't get me wrong, Miss Forte, I need plenty of fresh meat here, but I'm not about to put a defenseless bag of fur out there without at least giving said bag of fur a fighting chance." Vox remarked, shaking his head, walking to the other side of the room, keeping his eyes on Jigsaw and her chair. "Surely you can give me at least a plausible excuse to justify why anyone, let alone a little whelp of a violinist-!"

"I am NOT a whelp!" Jigsaw stood up out of her chair, and then leapt into the air, spinning around and perching herself on the back of the chair, glaring right into Gleeman's beady eyes, now speaking in an almost sinister voice. "You want your rationale, sir? I'm here for blood. All I can drink, as a matter of fact. Violinist I may be, but mark my words, sir, I am more than a musician. With my violin, I can do all sorts of things — wondrous, marvelous things — that you would not believe."

Vox blinked, almost insulted for a second, but then, a creeping grin came along his face, much like the one he gave Adari'a, but even larger and more maniacal. "Well, well . . . looks like my new violinist may have a future in DreadZone after all . . ." Jigsaw smiled back at him, making sure to show a full set of teeth, as though sharing in whatever Vox himself was thinking.

The interviews cut off from there, leading back to the soundstage where Juanita and Dallas were waiting. "Quite interesting, eh, Dallas? Even before DreadZone was airing, our Exterminators-to-be were already making their mark! Ah, so nice to watch them grow . . ."

"I'll say! But they had a lot of growing to do, and in a hurry, as they were going to be facing off against the Galaxy's most ruthless cutthroats in DreadZone's pilot episode for the Exterminator Tournament Qualifier! We'll be watching them all match their mettle, from our newly minted volunteers to 'Geisha' and 'Crater', all in our next chapter of 'DreadZone Divas: Uncensored'!"

_. . . meanwhile . . ._

Cypress headed towards the bridge of the _Gangrel_, searching around. "Jigsaw? Where'd you hide yourself? I figured you'd want to watch this part of the tape with them . . . I mean, aside from that bit where Slick goes after your-. Huh."

She scanned the bridge, but with no Jigsaw in sight. "Come on, Jigs, I know you're here somewhere . . . "

A quick panting tipped Cypress off, and She ran over to a side table, in one corner of the bridge. It looked to be a typical cot that doubled as an examination table in emergencies, and the restraints were on . . . but no one was inside of them. She stared at it a few seconds, then narrowed her eyes as she saw the control clutch floating next to a wrist restraint. Cypress gave a knowing groan, then closed her eyes, in deep thought.

Not too long after, Jigsaw faded back into view on the table, strapped in, glaring at Cypress. A tap or two on the control clutch later, and Jigsaw freed herself. "You know, you ruin more slips than I get to actually finish these days . . ."

"I don't get you." Cypress replied. "You shouldn't be needing to do these stupid mental slips anymore. You have everything! Fame, power, your own personal police force . . ."

Jigsaw shook her head, vaulting off the table. It was at this point Cypress noticed that Jigsaw was not wearing her armor, but in her looser clothes, with half of her facial fur matted down in sweat, as though coming down from some sort of natural high. "That's not why I slip these days and you know it."

"I may know it, but I don't approve of it." Cypress shook her head. "It's just not healthy to keep slipping just to do . . . y'know . . . that. Especially now, when you could probably have your pick of any Lombax you wanted."

Jigsaw shrugged. "It feels better this way. Safer. Cleaner. More Control."

Cypress rolled her eyes. "You can't say that, I don't even think I've seen you try anything else . . ." Cypress remarked, then blinked. "Come to think of it, when was the last time you-?"

Cypress's statement was halted by a helmet striking her snout, causing her to clutch at it as the helmet hit the ground, and Jigsaw went to retrieve it. Cypress reacted immediately, almost on instinct, tackling the little Lombax and trying to pin her to the ground. Jigsaw replied in kind, noticing Cypress's wrist so close to her head, straining out to reach it . . . but Cypress just tsked.

"I'll say it again; I just don't understand you, Jigsaw. You think your instincts are that different from mine?" She pulled Jigsaw to her feet, even though Jigsaw still had a foul look on her face.

Jigsaw's eyes narrowed. "You, of all people, should have known better than to ask . . ."

"Well forgive me for assuming such things . . ." Cypress rolled her eyes, before heading for a panel in one of the walls, pulling out a fluid-filled pouch. "And here, you look hungry. Catch."

She tossed it, lobbing it high on purpose, leaving Jigsaw to vault herself into the air to catch it, before landing on her feet. She glanced at it, before sighing and falling back into her captain's chair. "And for the record, I don't have everything — this whole 'Protectorate' business means I need to be more careful with my 'off-the-clock' activities, as it were . . ."

Miss Vox cocked her head. "But I thought you liked the new influence."

Jigsaw poked at the vents of her food pouch. "I also liked being able to feed at my discretion, too. None of this banking nonsense." She sighed, and then sank her teeth into the pouch, with a look on her face as though trying to eke some enjoyment out of it.

Cypress watched for a few moments, before continuing. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought you were trying to convince people that whole 'Vampire of Veldin' moniker was just a DreadZone gimmick. Not that you actually wanted people to think that of you."

Jigsaw glanced up from her meal. "Just because I used to kill trouble for a living doesn't mean I go looking for it, Cypress. As far as those boys in the back of the ship care, let alone the rest of Veldin or Solana, I'm just a disturbed warrior who happens to be very, very hard to kill. Only Adari'a and yourself should know otherwise."

"Even Ratchet? I mean, I know why you don't like the robot or the geek, but he seems okay."

"Ratchet has not even proven himself yet." Jigsaw replied. "Besides, I have my own issues with Ratchet."

Cypress shrugged. "I don't see why. I like the guy . . . besides, Ratchet did us a big favor by taking care of my father and DreadZone."

"He also 'took care' of Ace." Jigsaw sighed, slumping in her chair. "And you know as well as I do what that means."

"You don't mean-. Oh . . . so THAT was how you ended up in the infirmary earlier." Cypress spoke, and then narrowed her eyes.

"It was a miscalculation!" Jigsaw sat back up.

Cypress didn't change her gaze. "I wanted Ratchet in one piece for the mission, not left for the carrion outside Elysium because of your stupid grudges. I don't care what promises you made to Ace back then — this is NOT DreadZone, and you will NOT be performing any 'exterminations' on Ratchet, his friends, or anyone else outside of what your current position as Protectorate allows, for that matter."

Jigsaw narrowed her eyes as well, resisting the urge to clench her fist for fear of spilling her meal. "You realize you can't protect him from me forever."

"And you realize that this man is a galactic savior three times over — probably four, if you count the indirect effects of destroying DreadZone. You think feeding without triggering a scandal is tough now, just think of the scandal you'll cause if you try to kill this man in cold blood." Cypress noted. "I don't need to watch you to make sure you don't try to exact vengeance on him."

"Our previous entanglement was brought on by his own temper; I merely took advantage of it. It will not happen again. So long as we require his assistance, Ratchet will remain safe."

Cypress wasn't impressed. "And after?"

"After that, all bets are off." Jigsaw coolly answered, then glanced back at her pouch. "Now, if you're done with your little lesson in morality, I'd like to finish my dinner. After all, we'll be on Quartu shortly."

Cypress nodded, and with that, Jigsaw bit back into her meal. The lizard merely responded with a shake of her head as she walked off.


	9. Tell No Tales

_ Never ever talk, never ever smile  
Knowing that my life won't be the same  
Never ever touch, never ever feel  
I will never hear you call my name . . . again . . ._

- "Never, Ever" by HammerFall

**Chapter 8  
Tell No Tales**

* * *

A dropship descended from the safety of the _Gangrel_ and floated its way down to the cliffs of Quartu. The main hatch broke its airlock seal with a beep and the sound of pistons firing to gently open the doors in the most decidedly mechanical tone possible. 

Ratchet decided to take the opportunity as the doors were opening to start talking. "So, the key to making a covert mission like this work is absolute silence. No noise whatsoever. You never know what'll set the natives off, so the best way to make sure they don't bother you is not to attract their attention in the first place."

Ironically, as the door opened just enough to allow for escape, Adari'a leapt out of the hatch, and landed on the sands first. The rays from the rising Quartun sun shone against her golden armor, complete with its leather straps and stylized gauntlets, and she looked out to the sunrise before letting out a primal roar.

Ratchet glared at the centaur as the door lowered the rest of the way down, but she just smirked. "Your logic is nice, Ratchet, but I think making sure that only animal control would want to come near this spot works a little better."

Ratchet just turned his head to Jigsaw. "I thought you wanted me to lead this search party?"

"Now who said anything about you leading? I just wanted you along." Jigsaw strolled down the rampway to the surface, walking towards Adari'a.

Ratchet just groaned, pulled Clank onto his back, and glanced to Big Al. "Why do I get the feeling I'm making a big mistake here?"

"Relax, Ratchet, this isn't any worse than the other missions I've seen you on." Al responded, scratching his neck. "And you've certainly been put up against worse missions than finding some lab tech."

"I don't know . . . something about Jigsaw still bothers me."

Al shrugged. "Well, Adari'a seems to like you — even if Jigsaw does try something, I'm sure her friend will keep the peace."

"That or keep the pieces." Ratchet mumbled to himself, before waving goodbye to Al and hopping onto the surface. Jigsaw blinked, then glanced at Ratchet, nonplussed.

Adari'a looked down at her two mission partners. "So . . . is there any chance we can get started with our searching, or am I babysitting you two on this one?"

"We'll get started." Jigsaw replied, pulling out a small holographic map and a pair of translucent glasses. "We're already close to the site of the CosmoGear research center — fairly easy to spot as it's the only one on the planet — along with a small village that seems to be tied to the research station, but also happens to make a fair bit of its own revenue offering several tourist packs involving whatever combination of boats and wind you can come up with. We should check both of them, but if Dimitri's still on the planet, odds are good he'll be in this village."

"So I'm guessing that if he's not, we storm the research center." Ratchet responded. "And what are the glasses for? A new weapon?"

"No, they're for me." Jigsaw replied, clipping the blue molded visor to her circlet. "Just a pair of polarized, light-sensitive lenses. Beats having the sun in your eyes."

Ratchet rolled his eyes, before taking hold of the map and beginning to walk towards the village. Jigsaw and Adari'a shared a look before following after him.

The 'village' looked less like the stereotypical hamlet Ratchet was expecting, and more like a series of huts along a path towards a harbor. All things considered, a quick brute-force search along the path should turn up Dimitri, if indeed he was anywhere to be found, but there was no need to disrupt more people than necessary (especially if these were peaceful village folk).

A lanky creature with tufts of fur along his head and extremities stood near one of the huts, adjusting a rooftop. He was the first to spot the motley crew, and leapt down in front of the lot. "My, my, not often we get a strange crew like yourselves around here. You look lost."

"We're looking for a friend of ours. About so high, same species, white coat . . ." Ratchet started, trying to describe Dimitri as best he could.

"Ah, but which one? That could be either of the twins you're speaking of." The creature responded, adjusting its coveralls.

Jigsaw raised an eyebrow. "The one that's not dead."

The expression on the creature's face changed. ". . . I thought that hadn't gotten outside of the local news yet . . . no matter, I'm pretty sure whoever you guys are, Dimitri won't want to talk to you."

"So you know where he is?" The look on the female Lombax's face lit up.

"No, but I still know he won't want to talk to you." With this, the blue-furred creature remarked, and went back to his roofing work. Jigsaw shrugged, then walked towards Adari'a, climbing onto her back.

Ratchet blinked, then started walking towards Adari'a as well, hopping onto her back without any assistance, although he did manage to make the lion wince. "So what now? The overgrown protopet didn't sound very helpful."

Adari'a glanced to Ratchet. "One, the Anyr don't take kindly to being teased about looking 'overgrown' in any sense; two, it didn't matter what the guy actually said to us; and three, warn me next time before you try to bust my spine out of alignment, would you?"

Jigsaw turned her head a little to whisper to Ratchet. "Since this town already seems to know about Dimitri, all we have to do is scan through the town enough until we either find someone who seems to know more about what's going on here, or we find our fellow hiding among them. A quick ride along the cliffs should do the trick."

"And what do you expect me to do?" Ratchet blinked.

"Hang on tight!" With that, Adaria burst into full bolt, galloping along the rocky cliff path, as Jigsaw closed her eyes and tried to focus on the mental blurs. Scanning an entire populace meant only picking up a glancing reading from each inhabitant in each house, and it was easy to miss if she didn't focus hard enough.

_Tech . . . tech . . . school . . . bolts . . . sails . . . playbot magazine . . . aha!_

"WHOA!" Jigsaw jerked back up, and Adari'a stopped dead in her tracks. The resulting intertia caused Ratchet to bonk his head into Jigsaw's, though, causing the girl to groan. "Ow . . . that house. There."

Jigsaw dismounted, trying desperately to shake off the temporary dizziness from hitting Ratchet's helmet. Ratchet leapt off and headed for the house in question, knocking on the door. After a few moments, an older-looking Anyr came to answer the door, glaring through his spectacles. "What you want, boy?"

"Hi, look, I'm here for Dimitri, and I thought you might have a clue about-?"

"You work for Cosmo?" The Anyr glared.

Ratchet shook his head. "No, we heard about the incident, and we wanted to see Dimitri, you know . . . for support?"

"Well, he ain't here, I can tell you that right now." The old man went to close the door, but Ratchet stuck a foot in.

"What can you tell us, then?"

The Anyr grumbled a bit, then whipped the door open. "Look, CosmoGear already had their black-coat squad out here lookin' for that boy and for the other half of their little prototype-device, and I damn well didn't tell them nothing worth saying!"

Ratchet blinked. "What sort of device?"

"Some sort of glove-skullcap combo thingy. Apparently Newton was wearing his half of it when they found him squashed to death, and they think Dimitri has the other half. 'Course, the entire town decided to follow Dimitri's example and not say a word. CosmoGear didn't like it, but what were they about to do? Now if you'll excuse me . . . my mush is getting cold."

With that, the Anyr slammed the door shut, and Ratchet shook his head. Jigsaw walked over to him, now apparently walking straight. "Not much info?"

"Well, it's something, at least . . . wait a minute . . ." Ratchet blinked, and then pulled out a pulse rifle, aiming it towards the sea.

"Hey, hey! You can't just whip that out here!" Jigsaw put her arms out, while Adari'a went to Ratchet's other side for cover. "You want to set the natives off?"

"I'm not firing it." Ratchet spoke as he used the Rifle's sight to scan the shoreline's ships, hopping his sight from ship, to ship, to paraglider, to sailboat. "There." With that, Ratchet sheathed his weapon, and Jigsaw relaxed a little.

Jigsaw blinked. "What? You just spotted him?"

"Well, it certainly looks like a Lombax from this distance . . . I say it's one of our more promising leads so far." Ratchet responded. "Ship's name is 'Black Banshee' if that helps any."

"It might." Jigsaw responded, then tapped one ear. "Cypress? You getting any of this?"

"Yeah, but it's not like I can spot the ship for you without going suborbital . . ." Cypress responded, coming over the two-way with a slight crackle. "I'm not a fan of setting off more alarms as is. Speaking of which, you REALLY shouldn't have brought Addy with you . . ."

Jigsaw shook her head, despite knowing that wouldn't transmit. "Actually, I was hoping I could get a confirmation on the registration records for 'Black Banshee'."

"One moment . . . cool name for a dinghy, but the boat's a rental property. You'd have to go out to the boat yourself if you want confirmation."

"Understood. Jigsaw out." She sighed. "Come on, we need to get down to the harbor. At least one of us needs to get down there and go out to that boat to see who it is."

"Miss Forte, if I may offer a suggestion?" Ratchet blinked as Clank spoke up, hopping off of Ratchet's back.

Jigsaw raised an eyebrow. "Go on . . ."

"We seem to be much closer to that parasailing station than to the harbor." Clank pointed to the nearby retail establishment at the nearest hairpin turn on the path. "Since I happen to be the lightest of the group, I would like to volunteer to use it in order to reach the boat faster."

"That could work." Ratchet added on.

"Hmm . . . all right. Just don't fall in the sea and rust or anything." Jigsaw shrugged, before walking over to the parasailing station. A minimal payment of bolts later, and Clank found himself harnessed up to what looked to be an enormous kite.

The Anyr working at the station started handing out spools. "Since you all aren't taking out a boat, you'll need to hold onto these in order to keep your friend from flying off-course and crashing into the cliff walls. Now, how long y'all planning to use the kite for?"

"However long it takes for us to land our friend on that boat." Jigsaw pointed out to the harbor, and the attendant nodded. Once all the spools had been handed out, Clank started walking along a small rail, holding the majority of the kite, opening it a little at a time until it started to catch wind. Suddenly, it unfurled with a PWOOF as a big gust took it, and Clank with it.

Ratchet blinked, then dug his heels into the gravel. "Hold on tight!"

It took a few moments for the wind to stabilize, as well as for everyone to get into position enough to be able to tug on their respective parts of the kite. After some time spent letting out the kite far enough, Clank had to watch carefully to see when he'd be close enough to the boat that he could just descend down to it. Suddenly, Clank freed himself from the kite, and opened up his helicopter attatchments to gently lower himself down. The kite, however, gained a large amount of momentum from losing Clank, and soon Adari'a found herself the only one still standing with her spool — the attendant had dropped his to avoid falling off the cliff, while Ratchet and Jigsaw both hit the dirt from holding onto theirs.

"If you people lose my damn kite, you aren't getting your security deposit back!" The attendant hissed, as Adari'a hung on to the kite tightly, reeling it in slowly, and giving Ratchet and Jigsaw a chance to regain their bearings and help her. Clank, meanwhile, kept on floating down to the Black Banshee, landing at the stern of the boat.

"Clank? You okay there, buddy?" Ratchet radioed to the little robot, now climbing off the ship's walls.

Clank adjusted his arm slightly. "I am fine, Ratchet. It appears that whoever is driving this boat didn't hear me land on it."

"Good, good. Can you tell who the driver is?" Ratchet responded, despite still struggling with the kite's spool in one hand.

"Give me a moment." Clank walked around the cabin of the sailboat, catching sight of a ruddy Lombax adjusting the sails. He seemed wholly focused on this, not even noticing Clank walking up behind him. "It would appear that Dimitri himself is piloting the boat."

"Great! Get him to come back to harbor, and then we can-_zzt!_-!" Ratchet started to speak, but soon found himself disconnected. "Damn radio must've shorted out!"

Clank had other issues, as the shock of the static discharge hit the Lombax on the sailboat, causing him to turn around and spot Clank. The creature looked utterly shocked, unable to speak, causing Clank to back up a few steps. The Lombax tightened up his ties on the sails, before going after Clank, who started to run on the ship.

Adari'a helped pull in the last of the kite's sails as Ratchet pulled out his rifle again, checking the sight. Jigsaw walked over to him. "What's going on?"

"Apparently our pal just spotted Clank."

Clank ran to the back of the boat, finding himself cornered by the ruddy Lombax. Clank held out a hand. "Stop. I'm not here to hurt you."

Clank then blinked, as the Lombax started waving his hands over his head, glaring down at the little robot. Clank just stared up at the gestures, before the Lombax gave up and sighed, sitting on the deck.

Clank walked closer to Dimitri, placing an arm on his shoulder. "I am here to help you. Please, direct the boat to shore so we can continue this conversation with Ratchet and the others."

Dimitri stared at Clank, confused. He did stand up, however, walking back to the mast of the boat, almost ignoring Clank.

Clank tried again, tugging on the Lombax's jacket. "Please. We need to return to the docks. My friends are waiting on us."

Dimitri stared at Clank again, a forlorn look on his face. He did, however, notice Clank's shorted radio, picking it up and making the adjustments to fix the fried wire, before returning it to Clank.

"-_zzt!_- Clank? Clank! What's going on over there? Why isn't he returning to shore?" Ratchet screamed down the radio, much to Clank's distaste.

Clank shook his head. "Dimitri seems to be ignoring me. He's looking at me, but he refuses to say anything back to me or act on my requests."

"What's Dimitri doing then?" Ratchet radioed back, and the attendant's ears perked up.

The Anyr pulled out a telescope, focusing on the boat, and standing next to Jigsaw. "What's your little robot friend trying to do over there, anyway?"

"Well, we were hoping he could talk Dimitri into-." She spoke, then glared at the Anyr as he gave out a hoarse laugh. "What's so funny about . . .? Oh, for the love of Veldin . . . Ratchet! Does Clank know how to do his own captioning?"

Ratchet stood up, putting his rifle away, before turning to Jigsaw. "I've never seen him do it . . . why?"

"We apparently missed out on a little detail before we came out here." Jigsaw responded. "Dimitri's deaf."

"No, Dimitri's alive. Newton's the dead one." Ratchet contested, before the Anyr finished with his laughing fit.

The attendant quickly regained his composure. "She said 'deaf', boy, not 'death'. You know, 'deaf' as in "he can't hear a damn word your robot's saying" kind of deaf."

Ratchet blinked. "That's even possible?"

"'Course it's possible, boy; both him and his twin brother, born that way from birth." The attendant offered, then shook his head. "Poor kid . . . got no one left on the planet to talk to now . . . well, as far as the deaf can talk, anyway. Bet your robot friend doesn't know how to sign either."

"Great . . . how are we supposed to have Clank get him back here now?" Ratchet asked the attendant, then blinked and checked his radio. "Hey, Clank, try writing down some instructions for the guy."

"Already working on it." Clank replied, scratching out a message on a nearby notepad, before handing it to Dimitri. Dimitri then grinned and nodded, adjusting the boat's sails. "We should be at the harbor momentarily, Ratchet."

"Great!" Ratchet smiled. "We better get down there. Once we pick up Dimitri, we should plan for a quick exit." Both Adari'a and Jigsaw nodded, before sprinting for the harbor.

After a small amount of difficulty piloting the boat back to shore, Clank hopped up onto the dock, as Dimitri tied his boat back up and paid the owner for the rental time. Ratchet quickly scooped up Clank, while Jigsaw made a beeline for Dimitri.

She smiled as she approached him, trying to come across as inoffensive as possible, even though she wasn't sure herself how well trying to speak with him telepathically would work. _Hello, Dimitri. We are sorry for the interruption, but-_

_What you people think you are? _Dimitri glared. _Boarding my ship with some robot, not giving me lips to read, calling me back when I barely know you . . . wait minute, how you speaking to me? _

_I'll explain later._ Jigsaw's expression changed, this time to one of concern. _We came to help you out, and to ask you a few questions. _

"Jigsaw? I think we better take Ratchet's advice . . ." Adaria pointed up, looking at a sizable fleet flying towards the village. "They look like they want to speak to Dimitri a lot more than we do!"

_Follow me!_ Jigsaw took told of Dimitri by the arm, pulling him towards Adari'a and helping him mount her, before Ratchet and herself followed suit. "Cypress, is Al ready with the dropship?"

The two-way crackled for a moment. "Yeah, just make your way to him."

"Good, we'll NEED IT!" Jigsaw responded as Adari'a bolted, just as the first few lances of searing heat descended from the flyers. The centaur had to keep abreast of the advancing ships, as the village folk all dashed inside their houses, scattering in fear. The centaur had to watch her turns as the ships came bearing down on the lot of them, leaping across the few beams they were laying out ahead of her.

Jigsaw pulled out one of her Dual Vipers, firing ineffectually at the ships, but it was enough cue for Ratchet to pull out a sizable Silencer and turn a few of the ships into dust. The townsfolk just watched in awe, old man and attendant included, as the pack made their escape while shooting down as much of their attackers as possible.

Once Adari'a found herself at the top of the cliffs, she ran as fast as she could, going into full gallop while Jigsaw and Ratchet returned as much fire as they could. Big Al barely had enough time to open the dropship's door before Adaria leapt inside, and suddenly everyone now in the ship was greatful that the back wall had already been padded for such a situation. Ratchet fired off the last volley of rockets before the hatch closed, and the ship prepared for liftoff.

"My . . . ouf . . . gratitude for making sure we grabbed the right ship for this job." Adari'a grunted as she pushed her upper half up, apparently content to let the rest of herself lie on her side. "Is everyone else okay?"

"Nothing's broken here." Jigsaw responded, holding her head, before shaking Dimitri's shoulder. _You okay?_

Dimitri sat up, looking around the dropship. _Where you taking me?_

_This dropship will be returning to my vessel, the _Gangrel_, where we can continue our conversation from earlier._ Jigsaw glanced back at him, before looking over to Adari'a. "He's okay too."

"Glad to hear that." Ratchet smirked, cocking his head a little. "I'm guessing you can talk with him without too much trouble?"

"Sort of . . . His mind's still thinking in standard sign, instead of normal standard. It makes his grammar a little more difficult for me to follow." Jigsaw replied, before returning her gaze to Dimitri. He gave her a gesture with the gauntlet-covered hand, and Jigsaw frowned at him. "He's also annoyed at us for picking him up like this."

"Yeah? Well he can be thankful when he realizes that unlike CosmoGear, we're not about to hurt him."

Jigsaw shook his head. "I think he's already aware of that much . . . he's not upset, just aggravated."

Dimitri stood up, dusting off his lab coat, and adjusting something in his hair. The white lab coat stood out on most Lombaxes to begin with, but against Dimitri's extra-reddish fur, it stuck out even more. The darker brown hair certainly didn't help matters, although there appeared to be a glint of something silver in there with it. He walked towards Ratchet for a moment, apparently curious.

Ratchet didn't know what to say, but he waved to Dimitri, and held out a hand. Dimitri accepted it, but there seemed to be a strange look on his face of . . . confusion? concern? insolence?

Whatever it was, Dimitri couldn't find much in the way of words for Ratchet, walking off a few steps before signing some kind of gesture to him, then saying nothing else as the dropship continued its return trip.


	10. Deafening Silence

_Can you hear them  
All the voices in my head  
They freak me out  
Can you hear them  
They won't be happy 'till I'm dead . . ._

- "Can You Hear Them?" by Ozzy Osbourne

**Chapter 9  
Deafening Silence**

* * *

"We're back with our little silent surprise!" Ratchet called out as the dropship opened, with Cypress Vox waiting in the hangar. She stood up as Ratchet pushed Dimitri in front of him, with Jigsaw at his side. 

Dimitri looked exceedingly nervous, and cast an expectant glance at Jigsaw. _I your prisoner?_

_No, no, we're here to help you, not the other way around._ Jigsaw replied, before looking at Cypress. "We got the lab tech! that's what you wanted, right?"

Cypress nodded. "I'm glad you pulled that off, although one thing bothers me. You say he's deaf, right?" Jigsaw nodded vigorously, then slowed down as she picked up on Cypress's next question. "Then how was he talking in the surveillance video?"

Dimitri blinked. _Vox seems upset . . . should I run? _

Jigsaw cast an eyebrow at their new catch, while Ratchet took a step back, but a more direct approach. "Well . . . it was the sail attendant who said he was deaf. Maybe he was mistaken."

"Or maybe our friend here can talk more than he lets on . . ." Jigsaw retorted, then stopped herself. "No . . . no, that doesn't make sense. His mind isn't wired like that. And even if he could speak standard, he probably wouldn't have used it to talk to his brother the way he did on the video."

"Perhaps a quick scan of the audio channels would give us an answer?" Clank asked Cypress, who pulled a databoard out of a suit pocket.

"It's possible . . . I know I examined the frames themselves, but I'm shocked that I left the audio channels overlooked." Cypress pulled the board open, before showing the data to clank. "Then again, The audio channels are usually tweaked some by the editors in order to get the voices better captured."

Clank scanned the data. "There's something wrong with the third 'scene'. It appears to have a completely different audio signature from the other two."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ratchet looked to Al, who was just now leaving the dropship.

"Typically a recording will have some sort of 'crackle' to it: in other words, the natural static in the room. The audio signature can change thanks to the velocity of the recording, the weather, the room it's played in . . . anything can interfere with the signature." Al helpfully offered, glad that for once Ratchet seemed interested. "Most broadcasts that we usually hear try to minimize the signature to nearly nothing by-."

"-recording in a studio!" Cypress hissed. "I should have known the audio there was too crisp!"

"So the surveillance video was tainted?" One of Ratchet's eyes started to twitch.

"Worse than that. We could've been sent on a wild goose chase thanks to that thing!" Jigsaw growled, looking over at Dimitri again. _I'm sorry to have to do this, but we may need to ask you a few questions soon._

Dimitri blinked, somewhat scared now as Cypress shook her head. "I'm not sure what to make of this. It's clear that someone altered the last audio of the footage. We know at least part of the audio is trustworthy, since we were able to find and address Dimitri here properly. What we don't know is if this stuff is actually sensitive to Veldin or not."

"What's it matter?" Ratchet asked. "We know that whoever this guy is, whatever he knows, and whatever he took is important enough that we got shot at over it and someone else died because of it. What difference does it make right now if it has anything to do with Veldin besides this guy being a Lombax?"

"My assistance has to do with it." Jigsaw raised a hand, and Ratchet glared at her. "Listen, Ratchet, you're the one who's played this whole 'galactic hero' schtick before, and I respect that. But unlike you, I'm actually supposed to respect my post. My job as Protectorate needs to pertain to the safety of planet Veldin and/or its inhabitants, or else I may as well dub myself a mercenary."

"Well, he's an inhabitant. 'Protect' him." Ratchet remarked.

Dimitri blinked. _What happening? Why everyone pointing fingers at me?_

_Don't worry about it. _Jigsaw tried to get Dimitri to relax. _We're just talking about Veldin, since you're from there._

_This news . . . I have no idea what Veldin looks like._

Jigsaw cast a sidelong glance at Dimitri, then sighed. "I should probably interrogate Dimitri here to see what information we can get out of him. Maybe if I can get him to open up a little, we can either get enough out of him to justify my continued jurisdiction on this case, or else I can find some other loophole to exploit."

Adari'a climbed out of the dropship. "Can we watch?"

"It's not going to look like much, honestly . . . and I'd rather keep it to one-on-one. He'll be more likely to talk that way." Jigsaw took hold of Dimitri's hand, leading him off.

Cypress turned her head to watch her go, before turning her attention back to the others. "So . . . aside from the obvious, how was the little excursion?"

Jigsaw reached the position she wanted — a secluded part of the hangar, distant enough for comfort but open enough to keep her witness calm. _My apologies for the confusion, Dimitri . . . now, what did you mean when you said you had no clue what Veldin looked like? _

Dimitri shrugged, seating himself on one of the crates. _I have no memory being on planet's surface._

Jigsaw blinked, still not believing what she was hearing, or at least sensing to hear. _But weren't you born there? _

_I born there, yes, with brother Newton._ He replied. _But mother and father gave us up immediately, when they found out we both deaf. _

_That's horrible! What happened?_

Dimitri shrugged. _Most Lombax depend heavily on ears working. They could not handle babies that couldn't hear. They gave us up, send us to Silent Night._

Jigsaw seemed floored, but after a few moments, she realized he was right — even in this age, a key defect like total deafness was tough for most species to handle, least of all a Lombax. Those big ears weren't just for show, after all. _What is this 'Silent Night' place you speak of?_

_'Silent Night' galaxy-wide Deaf community on planet Caultero. All species welcome there. Teach us how to function without sound. Teach us how to sign with hands and tentacles. Everything designed for us! Theatre, nightshows, restaurants, all optimized to run without noise whatsoever! _Dimitri's eyes lit up. _I grew up there, been there almost all my life. Silent Night my home more than Veldin. _

_How did you end up on Quartu then?_ Jigsaw asked, curious. Her ear twitched just enough when she sensed a third presence in the area. Apparently one of the others had decided to eavesdrop . . . but she ignored it.

_Newton and I left Silent Night for education. CosmoGear picked us up, and put commission for first client right away. Took much effort to design Harbinger, but-!_

_Hold it._ Jigsaw raised an eyebrow. _You must be mistaken. The Harbinger is a patented weapon of Vox Industries._

_Of course. Vox bought patent for large sum. Ask him yourself._ Dimitri pointed to Cypress, and Jigsaw turned around, dumbstruck.

Cypress glanced to Jigsaw, noting Dimitri's finger, confused. "Did I miss something?"

"Apparently our new friend here used to work on your father's payroll. Claims he designed the Harbinger."

"You're kidding!" Cypress ran over to the two, and Dimitri immediately cringed, nearly falling backwards from where he sat. "On second thought, you may be onto something . . ."

_You can relax. This is not Gleeman Vox; just his daughter. She's much less violent._ Jigsaw tried to reassure Dimitri, and at least momentarily, it worked, as Dimitri extended his hand out, and Cypress shook it. _Did you do any other work for Vox Industries?_

_They biggest client of company! _Dimitri exclaimed. _My brother and I, we did last project for them. More for us, but they wanted it once finished. _

_What did they want?_

Dimitri cast a quick glance to Cypress, as though nervous, then ran a hand through his short hair again. This time, however, he pulled out a silver skullcap from his hair, with the silver wires spanning the cap several times, causing it to resemble a three-dimensional dream catcher. He also pulled off his gauntlet, holding it up with the skullcap. _This meant top-secret. My brother and I wear only two known prototypes. The idea, make it easier for others to talk to Deaf the way I sign to brother. But we left when we found out what else it do. _

_What did it do?_ Jigsaw stared at the devices, slightly confused. Cypress had much the same look on her face, fascinated.

_When Newton and I wear them, we talk better than signing. Like you talk to me right now. We found CosmoGear computers splicing signal. We suspected they using signal for more. We tried to leave, test independently, away from surveillance._ Dimitri slumped. _Newton did not make it._

_Could the surveillance cameras have picked up on this signal?_ Jigsaw leaned in, concerned.

Dimitri shrugged, now losing interest, putting the devices down. _If upgraded in time, I suppose it possible . . . I noticed delay in speech when talking to Newton last. It may have been distance involved in relay. _

"There's your answer." Jigsaw spoke, glancing to Cypress. "The audio in the last part's different because it wasn't audio in the first place. It was probably spliced into the surveillance tape to match whatever they were saying to themselves, only recorded so that we could hear it, since I doubt 'telepathy' transmits well over video in the first place."

"I'm still lost as to how this translates to Veldin's safety." Cypress noted. "Obviously for those two, it was important as it seems to indicate that it was recording their conversations . . . but what about the rest of the planet?"

Jigsaw nodded, going into deep thought for a moment, before opening one eye wide. "I bet it was more than just conversations going past them." _Dimitri, were you and your brother able to transmit mental images of things? Like blueprints? _

Dimitri nodded, and Jigsaw smirked. "That's what I thought. Whatever that little skullcap of his picked up, in order to just send mental messages, it would have had to filter only for those messages. But according to Dimitri, they were sending pure, unfiltered mental imagery."

Cypress shrugged. "So more than just messages were getting transmitted."

"A lot more. I'm talking on the neural level. These caps were transmitting how their user's minds worked. If Dimitri's right, about how all this data was getting spliced and somehow stored in CosmoGear's computers, then this is more than mere eavesdropping. This is all-out mental mapping." _Did you figure out how much data the computers were actually picking up? That they were picking up on how your mind worked?_

Dimitri nodded, suddenly looking very nervous. _With information at their disposal about Lombax mind, even one with different idea of language than my own . . . too much to continue. We may not remember Veldin, but we knew more Lombax lived there. Their minds now at risk much as ours, with that much known. _

Jigsaw returned the nod, not looking too good herself. "Glad to see I don't need to be a scientist to figure out just how bad this is. Cypress, go ahead and relay this to Ratchet and the others. They'll be interested in this." With that, Cypress nodded and ran off, leaving Jigsaw and Dimitri alone again. _Now, one last question before we rejoin the others._

Dimitri glanced up at her, forlorn. _Yes? _

_When we found you, you were sailing some sort of boat . . . but since you're deaf, I would presume that you wouldn't have normally been allowed onto the open seas by yourself, or at least haven't been sailing for very long since you forgot your lifejacket._

_I did not forget. _He replied, curling up into a ball, still looking at her. _I miss my brother very much. I could not continue my research in village. I could not keep them at risk much longer. I was going to . . . solve all three problems before you arrived._

Jigsaw shook her head. _Such a waste . . . I'm glad we found you. _Dimitri buried his face in his arms, looking ashamed of himself, but Jigsaw walked over to him, sitting beside him and wrapping an arm around him. _It's okay. You're with us now. CosmoGear won't be able to find you here, and you can continue your research either on my ship or on Veldin for as long as you need to. _

Dimitri buried his face in further, not knowing what to think. _My brother . . . what of my brother? _

_You'll manage_. She tightened up her arm's grip around him. _Your brother's sacrifice would have been in vain if you had died today. Now you have a chance to continue your research, and make sure that the workings of the Lombax mind stay safely in Lombax hands. _

Dimitri looked over at her, then nodded slowly, sitting back up. _I still not certain how you talk to me. You seem like my research not needed._

Jigsaw shook her head. _This is a natural talent of mine that took time to control. I'm the only Lombax that can do this, as far as I know. Your research should allow you to do this with others beside me. _

_That not answer how._ Dimitri smirked, a hand going for Jigsaw's hair. _I must study you more, see how neural net-._

_Easy, pal._ Jigsaw backed off, frightened. _This mind isn't going under anyone's microscopes anytime soon. We should walk back to the others now. _

Dimitri nodded some, and Jigsaw took hold of him by the wrist again, bringing him back to the others. Cypress and Adari'a both turned around to the the two returning, and Ratchet was watching Dimitri with some interest.

"So . . . I've got this guy to thank for the Harbinger, eh?" Ratchet smirked. "Didn't realize he was so talented."

"Neither did I." Jigsaw replied. "I'm a little worried about his ties to Vox though . . ."

Al winced. "You don't think the attack on them at Quartu-?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't put it past them. I think we all know firsthand what Gleeman's wrath was like." Jigsaw responded, shaking her head. "This being said, I suggest we lay low for at least a day or two; Let's find out just how much heat we've picked up from our new shipmate here, then react accordingly. After all, with Dimitri here, their research should be disrupted enough for us to take it easy for at least a couple of days, provided we're not tailed. "

Adari'a smirked. "Plenty of time for us to get through the Exterminator Tournament's chapters while we're keeping a low profile, then."

"I think we have more important details now . . . " Cypress reminded her.

"I'm only talking two hours to watch the stuff, tops. Plenty of time for the more mission-critical details." The lion retorted. "Besides . . . Unlike you two, I don't have a whole lot else I can do on the ship when there's no fighting involved."

"Aww, Addy, You know that's a lie . . . we just don't have anyone we can rightly call a prisoner for you to toy with now." Cypress smirked, tousling Adari'a's hair. "But in the meantime, go get our boys set up in the back for tonight. Jigsaw and I will set the ship on its course, and then we'll join you."

With a few nods of approval and a quick send-off, Adari'a led Ratchet and the other boys out of the hangar, while Jigsaw and Cypress made their way to the bridge. Jigsaw watched to see when they all went through the doorway leading to the main viewing room, then snapped her head back to Cypress's line of sight as soon as it closed. "Dimitri bothers me."

"Is this 'bothering you' in the way it bothers you that you can't read a robot's mind?" Cypress blinked.

Jigsaw shook her head. "No. We picked up Dimitri before he was about to kill himself. The boy has survivor's guilt, which I expected, but the suicidal behavior disturbs me."

Cypress nodded, a worried look on her face as they passed through another doorway. "So you think he's a risk."

"Worse, an ingrate." Jigsaw responded curtly. "I'm concerned that Dimitri might take our little rescue for granted. Might try again, in fact."

"What are you getting at, Jigs?" Cypress narrowed her eyes. "You want my permission? For one of your 'tests', I'm guessing."

Jigsaw smirked. "You know me well. And I'm glad you have that kind of memory on you."

"You're likely to half-scare the boy to death if you try it. It's one thing to do that sort of thing to a condemned man . . . It's another to try it on a deaf kid."

The Lombax shook her head. "I'm not going to hurt the boy . . . promise. I'll even make sure he doesn't need his ears for it."

Cypress sighed, then just looked down at Jigsaw as she walked on ahead to the captain's chair. "Times like this make me wonder why you even ask . . ."


	11. Diva's First Blood

_If I say I don't need anyone  
I can say these things to you  
'Cause  
I can turn on any one  
Just like I turned on you . . ._

- "Rocket Queen" by Guns N' Roses

**Chapter 10  
Diva's First Blood**

* * *

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to DreadZone!" Dallas's voice came up as the pilot episode began. "We're broadcasting live on galaxy-wide high-definition holovision from the DreadZone Station's Battle Dome! I, Dallas Fairfields, will be your announcer tonight along with my lovely, multi-talented boss and general manager of DreadZone, Ms. Cypress Vox!" The camera pulled back a bit to show Cypress sitting next to Dallas, although it was painfully obvious that Cypress was sitting on whatever passed for a 'floor' in the announcer's booth to cut her height in comparison to Dallas. 

From the smile on Cypress's face, you could tell she wasn't letting something as silly as her seat bother her. "We've scoured the galaxy over to find the most vile, despicable, and outright malevolent criminals, just so we could force them into battles and death-defying challenges to speed up their executions! But of course there's a twist; among them we have the rejects, black sheep, and even a few heroes of the galaxy, willing to face off with and against these cutthroats to see justice extracted to its fullest extent, and you get to see it all!"

"Which of course leads to the million-bolt question, Cypress." Dallas cooed, leaning over towards his boss. "Just how do you pit the criminally insane against these clearly innocent volunteers, and still expect the right contenders to rise to the top of DreadZone without the possibility of these criminals doing what they do best and cheating their way to the top?"

"Simple: the cheating's built in!" Cypress smirked. "But seriously, folks, if you'll take a look down at the Battle Dome below us, you'll notice a meticulous little setup that looks like a racecourse. And of course, it is! We've taken the liberty of tossing in a few 'surprises' on this death course that should benefit each and every one of our competitors if they're willing to look for them, and we've made it very clear, since this will be the first time our contestants will finally see each other's faces — honor means absolutely nothing if it gets you killed!"

"You've got that right, Cypress! Hey, it looks like they're about to start loading the gates for the big race!" Dallas chimed in, pointing to the race gates, some of which looked larger than others. "Unfortunately, it'll be a little bit of time before the Exterminator Race begins; since this event will determine the top four contestants who get the better armor, more freedom on DreadZone Station, and other assorted perks, we couldn't just leave it all up to this event! The Exterminator Tournament's been going on since early this morning, and we have a ton of highlights to show you as we load up the racegates!"

"Indeed, Dallas! First up for the 'Dead Men Walking', this is the man who made the 'Marble Corpses of Metropolis'! He's tough, he's sexy, Dallas even mistook him for a woman in the first round . . . say hello to 'Geisha'!" A blue-tinted camera panned down to show a red figure dressed in an ornate purple kimono, fluttering fans hiding his face, making his way towards the first gate. The writhing 'hairs' in his bun begin to blink, waiting for the first strike. Suddenly, the fans whipped back, revealing a scaly, hideous face as he snarled into the lens, revealing yellowed eyes and a forked tongue.

"WOAH! Glad we polarized those camera lenses, eh, Cypress?" Dallas grinned, elbowing his partner to little effect.

Cypress rolled her eyes, but the majority of the roll was cut off to show a clip from one of Geisha's earlier matches in the day, involving a collection of swarmers. "Indeed, Dallas. To those unfamiliar with the Kendril race, mere eye contract from a Kendril is capable of paralyzing organic creatures instantly; in the eyes of a trained assassin, the Kendril glare can even turn its victims to stone!" The clip finished with each and every one of the swarmers becoming statues, with even one swarmer cracking in two as it hit the ground, caught in mid-leap. "Geisha sealed up first place in the Carnage Round by freezing each and every one of our ankle-biters in a mere fifty-one seconds!"

"I still couldn't believe it!" Dallas exclaimed "Er . . . he's not about to hit us with that gaze, is he?"

"Of course not. The paralytic abilities of a Kendril are linked to special pheromones; even standing five feet away from a Kendril drastically reduces its power. The polarized lenses are merely our way of saying 'better safe than sorry' when it comes to our viewers at home." Cypress replied as 'Geisha' went to his gate, the doors closing on him.

As the gates closed shut, the next van arrived, its door opening with a loud 'CLANG' as it hit the arena floor. Stepping out of the van was a superbly suave Greenie, antenna sticking out of his coif as he looked over his designer shades at the audience. On his face was an unmistakable grin, and Dallas was just staring out at him, watching wordlessly.

"Dallas . . . ?" Cypress asked, shaking him by the shoulder. "Dallas, snap out of it!"

"But he's just so . . . so . . . handsome! Everything about him is a work of art!"

Cypress raised an eyebrow. "Including the death sentence for his 'hostile takeover' of Gadgetron a decade ago, where he proceeded to blow out the top three executive's heads with a forty-four at point-blank range?"

"They probably needed the change in leadership anyway."

"They had to pull back their expansion into the Bogon galaxy over this!" Cypress rebuked him. "I don't care how much you think you're about to fall in love with your reflection over there, London's someone who damned well deserves to get himself killed here!"

Dallas just snorted as he continued to watch London walk into his gate, not letting the electrified atmosphere of the Battle Dome phase him one bit. It seemed almost fitting that as London's gate closed on him, the door from the next transport opened. An albino Anyr trotted forth, his large tufts shaking with each step as he looked out among the crowd, which seemed strangely silent for him.

"Ouch, you know what they say about the poofy ones — first against the wall!" Dallas spoke, despite the lack of feedback the crowd was giving him. "What? Is there something in my teeth?"

"No, no; it's just hard to crack a joke about someone who tampered with the life-support systems on a space station. Especially giving our current location as is."

Dallas flinched. "Is he going to be able to-?"

"No, no, of course not. He's not about to be able to get his hands on the control levels anytime soon." Cypress kept her eyes on the poofy predator as he marched for his gate. "Besides that, old 'White Noise' there has been sitting on a life-without-parole sentence for the past thirty years now, since Quartu completely outlawed capital punishment centuries ago. His technical skills are obsolete."

As the gate closed on White Noise, the field trembled just a bit as four more feet hit the arena floor. Adari'a looked up, clad only in athletic tape and a black shirt, before letting loose a terrifying roar to the heavens.

Dallas stood up. "Woah Nelly! Get a load of the poof on that girl!"

"The centaur tribes of Aridia are well known for their stocky builds and savage personalities. There's no 'poof' to it." Cypress notes. "Adari'a happens to be one of our volunteers for this competition, and you can see it in her gait that unlike some of the others, she seems to genuinely like it here so far. Her second-place finish in the Speed Round can attest to that."

Adari'a took a quick trot around the starting field, picking up support from the crowd with each step, before finally veering for her gate. A nearby camera managed to pick up White Noise hissing at her and saying "Showoff!"

Adari'a growled at the Anyr, before looking up from her gate to see a slightly different trotter walk forward. She had a slim figure, complimented by eight spindly legs that supported her spidery build , with a qipao hiding the delineation between her hips as she walked, keeping a deliberate path.

"Well, well, if it isn't our own galactic assassin, 'Crosshairs' Charity!" Cypress cooed.

"Crosshairs certainly lived up to her nickname earlier, earning a perfect score, and the first-place finish, in our Accuracy Round challenge!" Dallas spoke as the screen cut to a replay of Charity's flawless performance with what appeared to be a customized sniper rifle. "If that Arander doesn't become an Exterminator tonight, she's sure going to give them a run for their money!"

The Arander woman smirked, flipping her braids behind her shoulders as she turned to slip inside her gate, moving with perfect, precise steps. She turned around in her gate as the doors closed on her, barely giving enough time for the next contestant to appear, not even waiting for the van to land before forcing the door open, flying out.

Cypress growled as she saw the angelic creature flying out of the transport van. "Damn it all! Don't these people have any respect for a schedule?"

Dallas shrugged. "These are criminals, after all, the majority of which are facing the death penalty . . . and you can't expect Aeris, the first Celeste in a hundred years to be convinced for spawning a suicide cult, to be any exception."

The screen cut away to show Aeris pumping his wings as he flew through the Speed Round, technically 'cheating' as he avoided all of the ground obstacles that everyone else had to deal with. The screen then returned to show Aeris sticking his landing, still holding out his red wings with yellow tips, the same colors as the body paint that covered his tanned skin. At first glance, Aeris did look like the sort of creature that ought to be worshipped, if not for the hideous scars through his right eye, betraying the facade of heavenly beauty.

Cypress cocked her head just slightly. "I hope someone has a plan to ground that man before he covers too much of it. I'd hate to think that he could just fly his way into becoming an Exterminator."

"Well, there's plenty of room in this arena for just about anything to happen, so you might get your wish yet!" Dallas spoke, keeping his eyes peeled as the next containment van pulled up to the arena floor, pulling out a ramp as a man made careful, tiny steps down it, resembling a wizened old monk, complete with robes and shaved head. "Although here comes our oldest competitor by far, but don't let that fool you! This man is a powerhouse of carnal evil! He's a vampire!"

"Oh, come on, I've seen worse perverts on rival networks." Cypress scoffed.

"No, I mean it, he's a vampire. See? Death sentence later commuted to life for knowingly infecting vampirism. They even call him 'Cain'!" Dallas pulled up a datapad, and Cypress blinked when she saw it.

It took her a few moments to look at the datapad, then back at Cain, and again at the datapad, before grabbing it out of Dallas's hands, full of disbelief. "I wasn't even aware that Vampirism was real . . ."

Cain slipped into his gate with an otherwordly step, and as he stepped inside, from another containment van a Cezan marched forth, the same one as was seen in Vox's interviews earlier. He looked unbearably stiff and overheated in the arena with his military outfit, and for every intent and purpose, he looked like he had just left boot camp.

"Ooo, look out, Cypress! Xanatos is here, and I know how you like a man in uniform!" Dallas chuckled.

Cypress smirked. "Now where did you get that idea? I just happen to like having a real soldier here as one of our volunteers." She watched as Xanatos pulled out a rapier, holding it forward before beginning to twirl it, showing off a few of his drills before turning towards his gate, a steely look on his face.

As the gate closed on Xanatos, Dallas leaned over, trying to 'whisper' into the headset. "Think he stands a chance?"

"Not a prayer." Cypress responded, watching as the next containment van opened, trotting out a scaly, hooved creature. His mane ran down his back, with antlers that would make any hunter weep in joy. "I'd say the same for Mr. 'Zodiac' here, but I know better than to bank against a traitor like him doing anything."

"He looks pretty!" Dallas perked up. "No one told me that Vidians looked like that!"

Cypress snarled. "Were you even paying attention during the first rounds?"

"But they look so different in the sunlight! Or what passes for sunlight here, at least . . . Zodiac is one of our few political prisoners, convicted of treason after he was found selling blueprints to what then became known as the 'Indigo Program' once the press got a hold of it. Speaking of indigo, I bet that boy's going to be looking pretty black and blue before we're done here, Cypress!"

"We'll see . . . although that fellow over there looks like the only color he comes in is gunmetal gray!" The cameras switched from their focus on Zodiac over to the large, wingless dragon-bot walking across the field. Unlike Crater, he seemed keenly focused, almost predatory.

We hear Cypress making a noise that almost sounded like she was trying to swoon. "Now, THAT, Dallas, is a dream to behold!"

"You do realize that 'Spyro' over there is here because he single-handedly blew up Obani's Cassiopeia moon, right?" Dallas noted, jarring Cypress out of her schoolgirl moment.

"Er . . . yeah, of course! I've just not seen much in the way of the more reptilian races represented here is all . . ." Cypress blushed. "He's a big one, though, isn't he?"

Dallas nodded as Spyro went straight for his gate. "Most tunnel-bots are. He's about the right size to take on Crater if he likes as well, actually!"

"That'll be good!" Cypress grinned, watching as another containment van pulled up. It dropped its door as a tall, blue-skinned human female walked out of it, dressed in a buff-gold outfit designed to distract and boots that went so high it was painfully clear that this woman picked her outfits solely on one criteria — because she could.

Dallas whistled, and it didn't take long for Cypress to turn her glare on him, getting a second response out of Dallas. "What? What!"

"Eh . . . go ahead. She's a chemical criminal anyway — I heard the last man she tried to seduce ended up poisoned." Cypress replied snidely. "Of course, it was a galactic appellate-court judge, proving that it always pays to do your research before you decide to off a suitor."

"Cypress! Are you actually condoning that woman's actions?"

"No, I'm saying that if you're going to do it anyway, you should at least do your research." Cypress rolled her eyes as the woman walked to her gate. "Of course, if she was actually a smart criminal, then Poison wouldn't be here, now would she?"

Dallas didn't have a good response to that as Poison walked to her gate, watching the barred doors close on her as another van approached the field. This time when it opened, however, the crowd response was positive and instantaneous.

"Oooh! Now there's a guy that's going to have everyone gunning for him no matter WHAT happens in this event!" Cypress winced, as Ace Hardlight walked onto the field, striking a classic pose.

The screen pulled away to a shot of Ace Hardlight's second-place finish in the Accuracy Round, and Dallas just whistled. "You got that right, Cypress! Ace Hardlight personally put at least three of our 'Dead Men Walking' behind bars, and when you're dealing with that many desperate people, you don't want to find out what they'll do to you!"

"Yeah . . . shame that looks don't really help in survival here." Cypress glanced down at him, smirking.

Dallas laughed. "What, are you nuts? At least pick someone who's likely not to get his head blown off in five episodes! You know . . . like me?"

"Don't even try it, Dallas."

"Hey, you can't blame a man for taking a swing at it, but apparently you CAN blame a robot for taking a wrong-way turn, as this construction-bot can tell you!" The field shook as the mantis-walker began to take its first few steps onto the field, scanning the arena as it walked forward.

The robot's head swung towards the gates, before looking back over the race course. "Initiating spoils algorithm . . . fuck the race . . . fuck the race . . ."

"Uh, oh . . ." Cypress blinked. "This could be bad. It looks like Crater's given up on her chances and is determined to take out anyone and everyone that might actually stand a shot."

Dallas almost squealed out in a pitch reserved for pious schoolgirls. "Excellent! That means Crater's likely to turn herself into an added obstacle!"

"That does increase the odds that we might not get the best Exterminators for the job, though . . ."

"Pffft. Crater's devastating, but she shouldn't stop any of our more decent competitors from making it through." Dallas remarked.

Crater went into her gate, but as she was taking a while to back herself into the gate, the next competitor leapt out of his containment van, twin grapples darting into the ground in front of him to stabilize his landing as he swung over, landing hard on his feet. The black Lombax retracted his grapple-cables back into his gauntlets as he stood up, walking wordlessly across the field.

"And here's our first-place Agility specialist! Slick here found his way into the "25-to-Life" club by organizing what narcotic specialists to this day call the most intricate hallucinogenic ring they've seen in-. BY THE GODDESS!" Cypress started, then shrieked as twin grapples attached themselves to the side of the announcer's booth, with Slick zooming by his gauntlets right towards them.

Slick pulled his gauntlet's back prematurely to give him an extra few inches of lift, causing Dallas to back up about two feet in his chair while Cypress fell backwards. Slick landed on the rail of the booth, purring softly. "Awww . . . did I scare the boss and her pet slug?"

"Get back down there, Slick, or your ears become the new trend in purses!" Cypress hissed, getting dangerously close to Slick's face with her own.

Slick chuckled, and then gave a wink. "Now now, boss, once I win this race and join your new line of Exterminators, there won't be a need for threats like that. And I do intend to win. See you at the finish line, Miss Vox!" With this, he planted a kiss on Cypress's cheek, before leaping off the booth, heading back down to the field and to the gate.

"The nerve of that man . . ." Cypress hissed, looking disgusted with herself, pantomiming wiping the kiss off as she kept her glare on Slick for all of his descent.

As it turned out, this part was accompanied by a split screen of Cypress in the Blue Room, fingers holding the cheek where Slick had kissed her. "Actually, that was quite exhilarating, but even back then there was a certain need to stay in character, after all . . ."

The crowd suddenly cheered as the last contestant came forth, the hem on her dress already showing considerable fraying as the second Lombax appeared, wearing clunky, standard-issue grind boots and a look on her face that made it extremely clear she wasn't taking any of this. Cypress leaned over the rail of the booth to get a better view. "And here she is, folks, our shocking leader in the Exterminator Tournament, with second-place finishes in both our Carnage and Agility rounds! She's a violinist with a violent temper, and easily the smallest creature here with that big of a bull's-eye on her back . . . ladies and gentlemen, Jigsaw Forte!"

Jigsaw pulled the violin off her back, raising it high to more cheers from the crowd, before returning it to its holster. Jigsaw adjusted the fingerless glove on her left hand as she walked across the field, and already there were hisses and starts coming from the others, including a cry of "Kill the rat!" growing from the other competitors at the gates.

Dallas whistled. "Hard to believe that little girl right there has a one-point advantage going into this event! Especially for a volunteer!"

Cypress nodded. "That 'little girl' is the only one of the lot who's placed in two different events, and she's thrown a big wrench into the Tournament as far as the first-place leads are concerned. All Jigsaw has to do to ensure her spot as an Exterminator is either to place in this race, or prevent at least one of the first-placers from doing so, and she's as good as in!"

"Ah, but you said it yourself, this race could work in almost anyone's favor — the way the scores are scattered, anyone who picked up first place in this event would ensure their status as Exterminator." Dallas noted, as Jigsaw walked into her gate, watching the doors pull themselves shut.

"Five points in this event would certainly secure almost any fate here, but past the win in this event, and the gap narrows considerably. Anyone looking to keep their dreams alive will be doing anything and hopefully everything they can to knock our current favorites to the way-."

_- bing! - "Race to start in T minus 30 seconds" -_

"Oh! Hush!" Cypress hissed.

The in-gate cameras picked up a shot of a tense Ace Hardlight waiting in his gate, just as Dallas spoke up. "Any favorites for the race? I've got my eyes on Zodiac!"

_- "T minus 20 seconds" -_

"Not now, please . . ." Cypress remarked.

"Oh, come on! It only counts before the race begins!"

"Fine! White Noise!" She hissed.

_- "T minus 10 seconds . . . 9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . ." -_

The in-gate cameras switched over to Aeris, wings tight against his back, in the classic runner's position.

_- "6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . ." -_

Suddenly, an ear-piercing shriek of a note ripped through the field, causing several competitors to grab their heads, groaning in pain. Another switch of the in-gate camera revealed Jigsaw sheathing her violin almost instantly afterwards, a large grin on her face.

_- "3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . ." -_

In an instant, the gates flew open.

_- "GO!" -_


	12. Stairway to Extermination

_No I don't care what you say  
Into the darkness I plough my way  
I'm striking out for paradise  
To be the one I am_

We're going down to the devil  
We are striking out for paradise . . .

- "Down to the Devil" by Edguy

**Chapter 11  
Stairway to Extermination**

* * *

Jigsaw bolted out of the gate, but the two robotic contenders, unaffected by her jump-start, burst out of the gates right after her, both going for her. The others sprang from their gates a second later, all aiming for her, with Charity even racing underneath Crater to try and get her hands on Jigsaw. Jigsaw just ran with the devil nipping at her heels, nearly impaling herself on the rock wall at the start of the obstacle course in her haste to get moving.

"Oooh, bad move there! As though everyone wasn't already gunning for her little Lombax behind as is!" Dallas spoke up, watching as Jigsaw tried to frantically make her way up the wall, reaching for each grip and digging her fingers into each as she scaled the wall, keenly aware of the anger behind her.

Slick seemed to ignore Jigsaw once he got himself out of the gate, preferring to launch his gauntlets instead for the top of the climbing wall. Jigsaw was about halfway up the wall, as well as Crosshairs, Ace, and White Noise, when she saw Slick flying past her.

"Victory is the BEST revenge!" Slick cried out, bracing his feet to dig into the top of the wall as he hit it, rolling over the lip and taking the lead. Adari'a growled when she saw this, unable to find the right foothold for paws, smacking the climbing surface. Poison and Zodiac were even starting to get their advantage, while Slick was taking an early lead of aggravating proportions, with Aeris right behind him, having a little trouble picking up the necessary lift for his wings.

"And Slick takes the lead on the first leg!" Dallas cried out. "Wow, why don't we just call it a race right here?"

"Tell me you're being sarcastic . . ." Cypress hissed. "I practically designed this course myself, so we're watching all of it! Besides that, we have nearly half-an-hour of holovision remaining... "

Dallas scoffed. "YOU designed this obstacle course? What, is Slick about to come up against the 'Dreaded Teddies of Torval' in a few minutes?"

"Do not mock the Torval Teddies!" Cypress hissed, as the others began to make it over the lip of the climbing wall. "And either way, no. I put my signature touch on this to make sure each and every one of our new contestants here has a fighting chance. Past the rock wall we have an interesting little maze for our new 'friends' to navigate, then beyond the hanging rings they'll have to make it through a randomly-melting ice field, as well as our turret-loaded gauntlet complete with grind rail course, and just past the 'Stairway to Extermination' we have our finish line, where four sashes hang to await our race's winners! They'll each have to yank a sash free to lock in their time, allowing us to record the winning times down to the last pictosecond!"

"Incredible! I'm almost amazed you didn't try to rig it somehow in order to give one of the others an extra advantage!" Dallas exclaimed, almost expecting Cypress to lead him into a burst of sarcastic laughter, but nothing came. "Oh, you actually made this a fair course . . ."

"Yes, I did. Now whether these guys want to keep it fair is another question." Cypress grinned, watching as several of the contestants were still scaling the wall, and Crater was having fun trying to skewer a few of them as they tried to get further along.

Crater started to spew steam as Ace was trying hard to avoid her claws, so close to the top. "If I cannot win this, nobody can!"

"I don't think so!" Spyro hissed, scaling Crater and using her to make it over the climbing wall. Xanatos just barely missed being crushed underfoot by Spyro, but quickly hit the top and hit his stride.

Past the wall was a simple straightaway, giving Slick a nice clear area to trot across, but not a whole lot he could shoot at to speed himself along. Adari'a and White Noise ended up with both forefeet over the lip at the same time, but Ace and Poison were already running off after Slick, followed by Cain, Zodiac, Poison, Xanatos, and London. Jigsaw pulled herself over the lip, and immediately started running, eager to make up her lost lead. Geisha was up and on his feet, while Aeris was trying to glide on ahead, pressing onward.

Adari'a smirked at the Anyr, then bolted onwards, dropping her front to gallop with all six on the floor, the sheer of the airflow causing her fur to ripple. White Noise was hot on her tail, galloping just as fast. The two kept going, stride for stride, off in their on mini-competition. Neither of them even seemed to notice that they'd both run past Slick, who blinked when he noticed what was keeping up with him.

"Woah! Look at those two run!" Cypress smiled. "I can't wait to see how they fare up against the next part of this course!"

Adari'a blinked, picking up on this information, before the next part of the course inadvertently picked HER up instead, stopping White Noise in his tracks and tossing her for six, both figuratively and six meters ahead, but on her back. Large walls and columns shot out of the ground, making the once clear straightaway a tricky, barely navigable maze. Slick jumped through a hole in one of the new walls, just as it was heading back down into the ground.

Jigsaw blinked as she saw the walls and columns bobbing, before apparently deciding that the simplest route through this was to avoid them altogether, picking up a complex weaving pattern to stay on the 'safe' parts of the ground. Aeris, deciding the area was much to narrow for his wings, had a different idea for avoiding them altogether, going to the side.

"Hey! He's cheating!" Dallas pointed out, as Aeris was veering off-track.

"I already told you, he can't cheat!" Cypress muttered. "If nothing else, Aeris is going to be in for a big surprise in a few moments... "

Aeris blinked, seeing the pillar the course was now trying to raise to box him in. Chuckling, Aeris just rolled, turning his wings so they'd have enough room to go vertically... but he wasn't counting on half of both wings suddenly dropping off like freshly-sliced bread. Aeris screamed, now tumbling for the molten floor, just barely materializing back on 'course', but now severely crippled.

"Now, see? If Aeris hadn't tried to take advantage, then he wouldn't have flown straight into that monofilament wire and lost any chance to fly whatsoever!" Cypress smirked. "Why, he could've gotten himself killed for pulling a stunt like that!"

"You say that like you care." Dallas cooed, watching as Aeris staggered onward, now unable to focus thanks to the searing pain of his half-amputated wings. Cain and Geisha pushed past him, going on either side. Adari'a rolled onto her stomach and turned herself around, finding Ace Hardlight and Poison vaulting over her while Jigsaw ran under her, now that Adari'a had become more of an obstacle than a competitor.

Meanwhile, Crater was coming up on the stretch, making herself known in the most obnoxious way possible, tromping down the straight away, tearing at the walls of the bobbling maze, and causing a strange side effect.

Cypress went wide-eyed. "Now, see, THIS kind of cheating I didn't have any safeguards for."

Adari'a screamed as part of the walls broke loose, falling towards her. She squirmed out of the way in time, racing onwards as the maze started to fall apart around the other racers. Spyro saw this, and rather than press onward, pounced on top of the taur, holding the maze open.

Adari'a blinked. "What in-?"

"MOVE!" Spyro hissed, as Adari'a, Xanatos, Cain, and the others dashed through what was left of the crumbling maze. "I have a score to settle . . ."

As soon as Spyro was certain that everyone was past him, he stood up, letting that part of the maze cave in on itself, shrugging off the incidental damage as he walked back to Crater, and kicked her squat in the cooling units, forcing her backwards.

"Does not compute!" Crater hissed. "This is an all-for-one race! Your behavior is illogical!"

"Stuff logic! Nobody's dying here just yet, and I'm not about to let a sin against robotics like you get the first shot!" Spyro cried back. "You want havoc? Havoc's here!"

With that, Spyro leaped for Crater, the two becoming entangled in struggle as they each tried to outmuscle the other, generating cheers from the fans that were finally about to see some action.

"Woah! Looks like those two are taking themselves out of the race altogether!" Dallas smirked. "What's he mean 'sin against robotics', anyway?"

"Without asking him outright, I think he's referring to Crater's unorthodox locomotion . . . but I'm not a expert on technocentric religions, and either way, we still have a race to call here!" Cypress replied, darting to the other side of the booth for a better view.

Meanwhile, Ace and Jigsaw were already diving into a field of suspended rings, both trying to get their bearing on how best to cross the bizarre hanging course. Slick seemed to be perched on the edge, carefully examining things, while others like White Noise and Cain just leapt into the fray. Geisha took a running leap, launching himself headfirst among the chains, and taking hold of four rings at once, seemingly using them as his next launching base.

"Wow! Look at Kurt manhandling those rings!" Dallas cried out as all four of Geisha's arms came in handy for supporting his route.

Cypress blinked. "Did you just call him Kurt?"

"Hey, you referred to Crosshairs as Charity, why the hell can't I?" Dallas retorted, the screen keeping its focus on Geisha as Slick was still standing at the edge, waiting for the chains supporting the rings to part enough for him to get a decent shot clear to the other side. Just as he made his launch, however, a force of pink rammed itself into him, clinging on tightly as the grapples retracted to pick him up.

"GET OFF!" Slick hissed. "These cables aren't calibrated for your lard!"

"Who are you calling lard?" Adari'a growled back. "I can't make these rings otherwise and you know it!"

"Well you're about to get us both killed thanks to your insipi-!" Slick didn't get the chance to finish that sentence as they both slammed headlong into the wall at the other end of the rings, still a good three meters away from the lip. Adari'a proceeded to use the cables as guide wires to help her climb the rest of the way up, and as she pulled her torso over the edge of the field, she noticed several of the others already near the end of the ring field, or about as far along as her.

"So much for Slick's lead now, eh?" Dallas noted.

Cypress shook her head. "It's not over yet, Dallas."

White Noise dismounted from the rings with a flip, jogging towards the ice-field and seeing it melt before he arrived. A quick visual inspection revealed some tiny peg platforms poking out of the ice field — barely enough for most of these large-footed creatures to use, but with his spindly feet, a minor challenge. White Noise started to tiptoe on the platforms, keeping his eyes on the ground to watch when it returned to ice, and thus gave him a chance to make a mad dash.

Geisha came to the field next as Adari'a got the rest of herself over the field's lip, and she just started galloping, not really caring about the ice field, making large splashes in her wake. Geisha apparently took off after her, with Ace, Jigsaw, and several of the others still in hot pursuit.

At this point, White Noise saw the field turn to ice, and with a grin he realized why this challenge had been included.

"MY FEET!" Adari'a hissed, unable to move her hind legs, now frozen into the field. Geisha found himself similarly immobilized, and even Ace Hardlight was stuck with a foot inside. Jigsaw smirked, having reached the field just as it froze, and not stuck in the least.

Jigsaw squealed as she skidded across the field, unable to control her speed on the ice. Crosshairs and Poison also started to get moving, but they spotted the pegs that White Noise was using to get himself across, and began using them as well to make their way through.

When the ice melted next, Adari'a bolted to catch up on her lost time, but Geisha was still slogging through, his dress weighing him down. Jigsaw found herself stopped cold as she slipped into the water, but quickly got her bearings about her and started to trot along the pegs as well, one hand holding her soaked dress out of the way so she could run a little faster. Slick pulled himself into the field about the same time that Zodiac arrived, leaving both of them to try to avoid the other's mistakes.

Ace managed to get himself onto the pegs in time to avoid getting caught in the ice again when it froze this time, but Geisha wasn't so lucky. Unfortunately for him, even Cain seemed more focused on finishing the race than helping Geisha free himself.

White Noise made it off the ice first, followed by Jigsaw, Ace, Xanatos, and Adaria. The turrets made themselves known in a hurry as rounds began to fire off, leaving White Noise to dive for cover to gain what ground he could manage. Jigsaw made a mad dash across the field, trying to stay away from the Anyr so that the turrets would have to spread out their targeting.

"AH!" She hissed as one got her in the hips, forcing her to the ground momentarily, holding her side as she got up, this time running a little slower. Ace started tacking across the gauntlet, going from side to side as he pressed on forward, while Adari'a just steeled herself and ran headlong into it, expecting to get herself nailed with at least one shot.

"We're seeing so many creative techniques to deal with these turrets today!" Dallas chimed, watching as Xanatos pulled out his rapier, trying to deflect a few of the bullets while Cain pressed on.

"Indeed, Dallas, but we're not done yet! Nor, for that matter, are Spyro and Crater over there... I'm seeing bits of robot anatomy I weren't even aware existed!" Cypress pointed out, as the cameras cut away to show part of the godzilla-esque brawl taking place between the two. "But we can't stay on that forever, because it looks like Ace Hardlight is about to become first past the post!"

Ace jumped onto the grindrail, followed right after by White Noise, both veering out of control as the rail took them approximately wherever it wanted to take them. Ace nearly lost his balance on one of the jumps, but quickly pulled himself back into order, while White Noise grabbed onto the rail for dear life, spiraling around its rail. The turrets were looking to take out their fair share of competition, and they were certainly living up to that promise.

Ace leapt off the grindrail first, but White Noise hit the ground running, quickly morphing his trot into a hard gallop as they both ran up the 'Stairway to Extermination', a shifting, spiraling staircase leading to the top. The finish was fluttering in front of them, and the crowd near the stairway was going crazy, watching the two race in.

"Oh my!" Cypress smirked. "Looks like we're about to see first Exterminator cross the line! Maybe two, if they're smart about it . . ."

The two stayed roughly neck and neck until almost the end, when White Noise put an extra burst of energy behind his gallop, forcing himself forward, mouth open to take hold of the first sash.

"Ha-HAH! In your face, Ace!" White Noise cried out as he yanked the red sash free with his teeth. Ace Hardlight was only a few lengths behind the Anyr, tugging the blue sash out of its holster as he reached the apex.

"Take it easy, old man." Ace hissed. "You think you're better than me?"

"Damn right I do, sonny!" White Noise jumped in joy, before holding his sash out to rub it on his behind, taunting Ace. "What's the matter, punk, embarrassed that you got your spandex-clad ass beaten by a 'dust bunny'?"

Ace shook his head. "Woah, woah, don't get too cocky now; wouldn't do you any good to bust your hip."

We hear a shriek of joy this time from the announcer's booth, Cypress giving a very toothy grin. "I was right! I was right! White Noise did it!"

"Glad our oddsmakers on the floor closed their odds three minutes before the race began — you could've really thrown a spanner in their works." Dallas remarked. "But you're right, it looks like White Noise and Ace Hardlight will be among our new exterminators! Which makes you wonder how we're going to fit all that puffyness into a suit of armor . . ."

"Let the armorsmiths worry about that! I was RIGHT!" Cypress was still smiling, doing a bit of a dance in her seat.

Dallas rolled his eyes. "And while you're doing a mockery of the 'Cabbage Patch', I'll be checking on the rest of the action . . . woah, looks like someone's separated themselves from the pack in a big way! There's three on the grindrail course now, but Adari'a's well ahead of them and making her way up the stairway!"

Indeed, through she was sporting a blackened line of seared fur where one turret nailed her, Adari'a was still galloping up the stairs, the look on her face making it plain that she was trying to block out the pain as long as she could.

Dallas watched with intense interest. "Keep going, keep going . . ."

Adari'a cleared the last five steps, reaching out for the green sash, roaring as it came loose and she hit the landing at the top of the staircase.

"Nice finish!" Ace smirked, looking down at Adari'a. "Love the roar. So primal and yet so . . . I don't know the words. It felt like you were trying to sum up the whole race into a guttural cry of victory!"

"Thanks . . ." Adari'a grunted, struggling to her feet. "But I think if you're going to heap so much praise on that, you should be thanking my newly-scabbed knees . . . and my burns . . . ow . . ."

Ace kneeled down to try and help Adari'a up, her bulk seeming to work against her. "You know, you probably shouldn't be here if a scabbed knee bothers you."

Adari'a just turned her head to look at Ace, and grinned. "Oh, I never said it bothered me . . ."

"And there you have it, folks!" Dallas called out. "Adari'a's just secured herself a-!"

Dallas found a hand over his mouth, cutting his remark off quickly. "No."

"Wha?" Dallas blinked, looking over at Cypress, punching values into a keypad.

"It's not that simple. Adari'a only has five points with that finish, plus a race bonus if — and this is a BIG if — she happens to tie for the last exterminator position without it." Cypress held a finger up. "As it stands, the standings are White with seven, Ace with six, Jigsaw with six, and Adari'a with five along with our first-placers from before."

It took a moment for Dallas to process this. "So . . . Jigsaw doesn't even need to place now, right?"

"To be an Exterminator, no. However, if any of those first-placers get the last point, Adari'a's placing in this race means nothing. And, if you had been watching the race instead of just listening to me mouth off, you'd notice that we have a distinctly against-the-odds situation here on the grindrails because the next three people likely to cross the finish there are Charity, Slick, and our scrappy little soloist right there." Miss Vox smirked as she pointed with her stylus towards the view of the three that she had on the monitor. "If she doesn't cross that line before the other two, I'd bet good bolts that a certain centaur will be dining on her out of sheer aggravation!"

"This doesn't look good for El Pinko then, because Charity's coming up on the stairs! Er, heading down to the start of the stairs . . . oh hell, she's in the lead!"

Crosshairs cackled loudly at the two Lombaxes grinding down the rails, as she jumped ahead of them, making sure she'd be the first to the stairway. "Victory is mine, furries! I'm going to have fun with your headshots!"

"Tell me — does all that sniper training improve your balance?" Slick cried out, causing Charity to blink, then shriek, as she noticed that the two rails she was using to keep herself upright were slowly drifting apart from each other. She moved onto a single rail, then cried out when she found herself flipping upside down, unable to right herself.

Charity screamed as she hit the lower wall of the stairway with a 'thud', spider legs splayed as Jigsaw and Slick split up onto the rails from their current position, Slick still about a length ahead of Jigsaw at this point.

"You know, Charity's trouble with the whole 'eight-legged grind' makes me wonder how White Noise and Adari'a pulled it off." Cypress mused.

"Probably because Crosshairs is used to having at minimum a triangular base, while the other two, while not strictly being bipedal, could still manage to keep to a line if they had to." Dallas shot back, drawing a little on his datapad.

Cypress blinked. "Wow, that's intelligent for a change."

"Hey, studying how women walk is only a step up from the obvious . . ."

Slick and Jigsaw were neck and neck as they hit the final leg of the course, both racing up the stairway. Jigsaw was moving a little faster now, getting about a length ahead of Slick as they both scaled the behemoth.

"Back off! There's not room for both of us up there!" Jigsaw hissed, keeping her distance.

"Then get out of the way!" Slick called back. "By the way, I can see up your skirt at the pace you're going!"

"Then take a good, long look, because that's the closest you're getting to my ass in what's left of your life!" She replied, still running up, when suddenly she stopped, and screamed.

Jigsaw glared, turning around to find two grapples sunken into her lower back, their claws having penetrated her skirt and were now tearing at her skin. Slick laughed, looking behind him to see Crosshairs getting her torso over the platform's edge.

"Come on, Jigsaw! Either let me win, or else sniper-lady gets the last point!" Slick cried out, trying to pull Jigsaw off-balance. "You want that psycho at the helm, or me?"

"NEVER!" Jigsaw hissed, trying to break free. She kept trying to push forward, to no avail, as Slick kept pulling back, both of them stuck in a tug of war. Just then, Slick fell backwards, his grapples flying loose, but with a blue dress still in their grips.

"I don't believe this!" Cypress cried out, as Slick tumbled down five stairs before regaining his balance.

Dallas whistled, as a replay of the tug of war revealed the other half of that 'war'; Jigsaw pulled most of her skin free from the grapples, and then grabbed at the straps of her dress before leaping clear out of it, either unwilling to free the rest of her bodice or else unable to. Jigsaw was now streaking her way up the stairs, now only clad with her one-armed shrug, a pair of black panties she was fortunately wearing under the dress, and of course, the violin still strapped to her back. "This is what it's all about, ladies and gentlemen! Look at that raw determination! That naked ambition that only an Exterminator can provide! Jigsaw has certainly proven that she will do just about anything, and I mean ANY-!"

"One more euphemism and you're out of a job!" Cypress hissed. "Although it looks like Jigsaw's picked up a second wind . . . that or she lost a good bit of wind resistance with the dress."

Jigsaw did seem to be running faster, although Slick was still tailing behind her, and Crosshairs was now scaling the steps some distance away, trying to keep herself in the race. She was keeping up her quickened pace, however, still scaling the seemingly endless staircase, her eyes focused on nothing else now but that black sash still blowing in the artificial breeze . . .

She reached out for it, leaping up to grab hold of it and swing across the threshold, ending the race. Ace ended up catching her before she could fall on the backswing, tugging the sash loose. Jigsaw hissed from her grapple wounds, but then looked up at Ace, positively giddy. "So . . . I'm an Exterminator now, right?"

"Yeah, but sit up a minute . . . We've got to find you something to cover that up." Ace spoke, wrapping the sash around Jigsaw to cover up her chest. "This is still being broadcasted, after all."

"Huh?" Jigsaw blinked, sitting up to find herself staring right into a camera. Off-screen, Cypress was trying to stifle her laughter, apparently amused that Jigsaw forgot the cameras were still rolling. Jigsaw blinked again, before hopping out of Ace's arms, landing on her feet.

"And there you have it, folks! With Jigsaw taking the 4th place finish, You're looking at all four of your new Exterminators!" Dallas exclaimed. "Let's take a look at the rest of the obstacle course, and get a load of some of our other DreadZone contestants! It appears that most of them are starting to slow down, now that the last sash is gone . . ."

Slick just sat on the stairs, where Crosshairs had evidently caught up with him, still holding the remnants of Jigsaw's dress. "I had her! I swear I had her... although damn, that's a lot of support they built into this . . . no wonder she wanted to pop out."

Spyro and Crater were still fighting it out amongst themselves, oblivious to the race's end, while Aeris caught up to find Xanatos stopped behind an embankment, curled up. Aeris shook his head. "Damn it, man, show some spine."

"I blew it . . . all the other volunteers made it to the top . . . and I blew it . . ." Xanatos moaned, rocking himself.

Zodiac started keeping pace with Poison, while scanning the racecourse before sprinting over to where Cain was helping Geisha free himself from the ice-fields, making sure to stand behind Geisha at all times. "The more you resist, the worse it gets!" Cain hissed, before finally getting Geisha's last arm loose. "Move like the deer in the thick, not like the fish in the net."

"Stop talking like the douche in the church and maybe I'll take your advice next time!" Kurt groaned, checking his dress now that he was loose.

Cypress blinked. "You know, it's almost interesting . . . all of these people — except for Xanatos, obviously — are supposed to be some of the worst criminals and fiends across the galaxy, and yet they almost seem to all get on like a house on fire. What's wrong here?"

"Well, if I had to take a guess, I think they're still trying to figure the others out. After all, they all seem to be keenly aware that they all could end up dead here, and so I could see where 'having a few friends' could come in handy in the coming weeks, if not months."

"Perhaps a couple weeks on DreadZone will get these criminals to change their tune? I for one doubt it, but we have no more time for speculation! That's all for tonight, ladies and gentlemen, so goodnight, and we'll see you next week for more DreadZone!"


	13. Sleep is for the Brave

_I will be here when you are gone,  
So I have the right to a power gorge,  
And I will be good at making bad,  
And I'll light the way for the fucking mad,  
I will defeat what I'm heading for,  
And I will be here for evermore,  
And I am the way of your empty shell,  
I want more than I am . . ._

- "Power Struggle" by Sunna

**Chapter 12  
Sleep is for the Brave**

* * *

"I can't believe you did that!" Al exclaimed, first to break the stunned silence. "The turrets, the infighting, that dress . . . that DRESS! What the hell were you thinking?" 

"It was everyone for themselves in there — and I didn't want to take any chances with my position!" Jigsaw blushed. "Besides that, the back of my dress was strong enough that I was likely to lose it either way. I figured a clean tear gave me a better chance."

"I see . . . I would make a comment about your actual . . . well, assets . . ."

Jigsaw tsk'd, blushing some. "Once they appear on live holovision, it's hard to worry about things like that. Though I am waiting on a certain other pair to pick up their jaws." She turned, glaring at Ratchet and Dimitri, both with mouths agape, eyes still glued to the screen. "Guys, the episode's off for the night. Please put your common sense back on . . ."

"I was looking at Adari'a's turret scars! Honest!" Ratchet snapped back, while Dimitri just stiffened in his seat, unable to say much of anything.

The centaur chuckled, then rolled her eyes. "Yeah, those were impressive . . . but don't kid yourself, Ratchet. Jigsaw can tell when you're lying. It's almost a sixth sense."

"Er . . ." Ratchet blinked, looking over at Jigsaw. "Look, I'm trying not to-!"

Jigsaw rolled her eyes, while Cypress suppressed a chuckle. "Ratchet, it's fine. It was years ago, and they don't look anything like that now anyway."

"Oh, then would you mind if I asked you to-. Erk . . ." He started up again, then blinked as Jigsaw picked up on his next few words. " . . . never mind."

Clank blinked, and then turned towards Cypress. "Nice performance on that tape there. I wouldn't have expected you to take such a visible position for the show."

"I wanted the attention. Plus, as controversial as the show was bound to be anyway, I wanted to make it clear people knew it was still Vox Sports. Besides, if nothing else, it makes things clear that all three of us were there from the beginning . . . and I'm sure Ratchet can verify that DreadZone was nothing like that when he first showed up, right?" Cypress smirked.

Ratchet blinked, still reeling some from his earlier faux pas, when he glanced at the screen. "Damn . . . it's that late already? I always thought DreadZone episodes were fairly quick . . ."

"Hey, they wanted to do a good pilot . . . but you're right, it's late." Adari'a picked herself up. "We better get our boys ready for bed, and I'm assuming they're not sharing our room."

Jigsaw blinked. "Damn, did we even . . .?"

"I'll handle it." Cypress put her hands up. "I'll grab the pillows and all out of our room; Addy, you make sure everyone's out of their armor and into whatever the hell they sleep in; and Jigs, if you'll give Clank directions, I'm sure we'll all sleep a lot sounder." With that, Cypress left the room, also leaving Clank confused.

"Is there a problem with my being online overnight?" Clank turned to Jigsaw, confused.

"Well . . . there's a recharge station on the bridge, and I would prefer it if you went there for the night . . . Gangrel would appreciate the company, I'm sure."

Clank blinked, pointing upwards. "By 'Gangrel', you mean-"

Jigsaw nodded. "This ship has its own AI. We have an understanding, but I'm sure you can imagine that there's only so much we can do."

"I will 'keep the ship company', then." Clank stood up, walking over to Ratchet, who was stripping off his leg braces at the moment. "I'll see you in the morning, Ratchet."

Ratchet blinked, suddenly nervous. "Are you sure about this?"

"Ratchet," Clank spoke, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I understand your concern, but keep in mind, I'll be with the ship's intelligence. From there I should be able to respond to any 'mishaps' you're afraid of from there as well as I can here."

"I'm still . . ." Ratchet said nothing, keeping his eyes on Jigsaw, who was using her cloak to hide her apparent disrobing, despite the fact that Ratchet had already seen her armor peeled free before from the medic's table.

Clank glanced over, then nodded. "All the more reason for me to speak with the ship's AI. Perhaps 'Gangrel' has some information I'm not aware of. At either rate, I'll return in the morning to relay whatever data I manage to find. Regardless of your opinions, I don't believe that Miss Jigsaw would be so br-."

Clank stopped, turning his head slightly to notice her listening in. "I don't think anything is about to happen tonight. These women genuinely want our assistance."

With this, Clank left the room, walking with Jigsaw, while Adari'a pulled on an overshirt as she walked over to Ratchet. "Still don't trust her as far as you can throw her?"

Ratchet glanced up. "Do you?"

"Had to, really . . . girl's saved my life on a number of occasions. Really went the distance in doin' so, too." Adari'a bent down, placing an oversized arm around Ratchet's shoulders. "You need to remember, Ratchet; Jigsaw, Cypress, and myself have been operating under the radar for years together. We damn well trust each other with our very lives at this point."

"Glad you feel so comfortable." Ratchet muttered.

While Ratchet was dealing with Adari'a's attempts at comfort, Jigsaw led Clank into the bridge, giving him a brief tour. "There's not a whole lot for you to do here . . . If any emergencies come up, I expect you to take Gangrel's lead. If Gangrel becomes disabled, you get one of us to get in here and help you."

"I assure you, Madam Jigsaw, I'm more than capable of-"

"I don't trust you even half as well as I do Gangrel, and that's only because I've had to deal with her a lot longer than I have with you." Jigsaw hissed, her eyes narrowing.

Clank narrowed his eyes as well. "Madam, I assure you I wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't trustworthy."

"Trustworthy to Ratchet, maybe, but I like my intelligences where I can see them, and I can't see yours, know what I'm saying?" Jigsaw responded, causing Clank to take a step back.

"I'm . . . not sure I understand what you mean by that." Clank replied, confused.

Jigsaw shook her head. "Of course you wouldn't. Just play nice with Gangrel for tonight anyway, would you?" With that, she turned, leaving Clank at the bridge.

Clank glanced around the bridge's controls, examining a nearby panel, when he heard a voice chirp up from behind him. "Please don't touch those. They're essential to keeping the food supply at optimal temperatures."

"I beg your-. Huh?" Clank blinked, looking up at the small humanoid floating in front of him, only half his height, with curls descending from her hair, and a doll's dark green dress hanging off her form. in fact, with her thick strands of hair and puffy form, it appeared that this floating figure in front of him was little more than a handmade doll with a painted-on face. It still smiled, though, and waved at him.

"Greetings, Clank. I understand you must be curious, but I have the ship under control." Gangrel spoke, moving her little cloth arms. "You are welcome to assist me, but I should inform you, there's not much to do right now."

Clank blinked, reaching out for the strange doll. "You seem . . . particularly familiar with Madam Jigsaw and the others."

The little lolita Gangrel giggled, covering her mouth in mock embarrassment. "I would hope so! I used to be Jigsaw's mission specialist, after all! Oh, the stories I could tell you! My job wasn't always this easy, after all..."

As the small doll node of Gangrel began conversing with Clank, Jigsaw crept back to viewing room where she'd left the others, hoping to find everyone else asleep. She slipped the door open, light peeling into the room, and closing the door behind her in momentary relief. Apparently no one look long at all to find some rest, as even Cypress and Adari'a decided to play 'sleep-over' with the boys. This made her job that much easier, and likely Cypress had managed to insist on it.

She walked over to Dimitri, whose silvery ear cuff-bands gave away his position. Adari'a had apparently decided she couldn't wait for Jigsaw to return, and somehow convinced Dimitri to let himself be used like a teddy bear, Dimitri's back against her chest. He slept soundly, with only traces of tears betraying how he went into that state.

Jigsaw knelt down beside him, feeling a momentary pang as she hovered a hand over his head, before touching his forehead with two fingers, right at where his 'third eye' would be. She smirked, and there was a light glow coming off of where she touched his forehead, leaving a faint trail of light as her fingers left it. Smiling at her work thus far, she walked away, when her eyes spotted one of the other sleepers, and she stopped short.

She glanced at Ratchet on a cot, one arm hanging off as Ratchet was now fast asleep, on his back, his chest rising and falling in a rare show of vulnerability. The loose blanket covered him as he slept, prompting Jigsaw to smile as she walked over to him, looking down.

The perceived urgency to 'test' Dimitri allowed her to ignore thinking much more of him than what it took to prepare for her experiment, but nothing of the sort stopped her from idling over Ratchet's sleeping form. If not for that agreement, she wondered what Ratchet would taste like . . . but for now, she wasn't in any mood to feed. She'd simply have to remain content eyeing the veins on his neck, looking at that smooth, velvet fur . . . watching as it continued unbroken down his shoulders and-.

She stopped, blinking to try and shake herself from this obvious train of thought. It still tempted her, though, enough to step a little closer to him, watching him breathe as he dozed, moving ever closer, until she finally stepped over his cot, straddling him. She took a deep breath — this had to be absolutely insane, playing like this with a seasoned warrior, expecting to be caught the instant she actually put weight on his body — but Ratchet didn't stir, so neither did she, content to observe, perhaps to pry inside his mind a little.

She leaned forward just some, taking a peek inside what was going on inside his head right now, and she blinked, then blushed, as apparently whatever Ratchet had in mind wasn't very far from what she had in her own. Her eyes narrowed in a suddenly occurring thought, chalking it up to that damned video and her last bit of desperation therein, but she quietly calmed herself.

Jigsaw put her hand forward, pressing two fingers against Ratchet's forehead as well, leaving the faint glow before she dismounted and stepped away from him, looking back at her work.

There was a moment's hesitation as she breathed in, trying to steel her nerve. "He needed that." She spoke to herself, in a tone barely above a hushed whisper. "Can't allow him to get the wrong impression . . . plus, it was sort of unfair to drop Dimitri in without a friend."

After little further thought, she laid down on the couch, careful not to send her armor clattering away, before wrapping herself up in her cloak, drifting off into her own presumably pleasant dreams. Not too long after, though, we hear Dimitri panting in ragged, short breaths, shivering and shuddering, and looking like he should be whimpering, as though his dreams were suddenly nothing pleasant at all.


	14. Saw the Opportunity

_Give me the strength to hold my head up  
Spit back in their face  
Don't need no key to unlock this door  
Gonna break down the walls  
Break out of this bad place . . ._

- "Can I Play with Madness" by Iron Maiden

**Chapter 13  
Saw the Opportunity**

* * *

Ratchet slowly came to, his eyes cringing against the bright lights. He blinked his way into awareness, slightly noticing that for one, he wasn't lying on the cot anymore, but sitting in a chair; for two, there was entirely too much metal against his skin for him to still be in the clothes he fell asleep in, and three, it was entirely too goddamned bright to be morning proper. He lifted his head up, blinking, his sight still hazy as he sat up and saw someone sitting in the chair directly across from him. 

Before his sight cleared enough, he tried to get up from the chair, only to find it click and resist against him. With a dull note in the back of his head that there were restraints on his wrists and ankles, he tried again, eliciting a second click, along with the knowledge that there also seemed to be braces on his chest and neck as well. He took a deep breath, getting ready for a third attempt.

"I'd sit still if I were you. The third click will be accompanied by your head flying off."

Ratchet blinked, one eye flying wide as his sight began to clear, noting Jigsaw sitting comfortably and slightly askew in front of him, wearing sky blue jeans with a tank top, complimented by black boots, belt, and that ubiquitous shrug of hers, her eyes clearly on Ratchet. Ratchet's eyes narrowed, however, upon note that Jigsaw was nowhere near as bound as he was. "What's going on here?"

"Calm down, Ratchet, it's only an experiment." Jigsaw replied, her eyes on him. "I felt it would be in your best interests if you weren't tempted to resort to more physical means while I spoke with you."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow, as he look a closer look at his chair, noting that this wasn't even technologically advanced rigging, but clockwork. Purely physical clockwork keeping him intact and imprisoned. "So having me in a chair designed to kill me is considered my best interests? I should've known you were up to no good."

"To kill you? Please, Ratchet, I'm not going to kill you. That chair isn't even going to kill you. I will kindly inform you in advance, however, that you will likely wish you were dead if you try to set that chair off, intentionally or not." Jigsaw sat up, glancing at the walls surrounding herself and Ratchet. "I merely wish to speak with you, since observing these screens can become dull at even the best of times. If you can manage to behave yourself for two hours — technically, it's only one hour, fifty-eight minutes, and thirty-two seconds now — the chair will disengage and release you, unharmed, head firmly still on shoulders."

"And why should I believe that?" Ratchet spat, eyes still narrow.

"Because I am in total control here, Ratchet." Jigsaw smirked, and suddenly the light in the room changed. Ratchet blinked, looking at the walls; they were in a spherical room, lined with screens and closed-circuit systems, and they were currently displaying his position in several different angles. The one he happened to be focusing on included a timer on the back of the chair near his neck, winding down the seconds, ticking away. Ratchet turned his head to see a synchronized timer near Jigsaw's position, dutifully reporting what time was left. "I have to have this sort of control over my surroundings, if this is meant to be a proper experiment. "

"And this 'total control' over your experiment requires leaving me in a ratty pair of pants, too?"

She shrugged, then grinned. "Partly that and partly for my amusement. After all, I won't turn down a chance to see that warrior's physique."

Ratchet blushed momentarily, before his healthy sense of paranoia set in. "You mentioned screens. What's on the screens besides the twenty-two different angles of my ass?"

"Well, as much as I imagine your ego — among other parts of you — appreciates the stroke, I am indeed interested in watching other things besides your ass." Jigsaw glanced at the screens, and they returned to their closed-circuit glow. "I forget where I last left off when I looked at these things. I swear I'd lose my own head if it wasn't firmly on my neck sometimes . . ."

Ratchet glanced at the screens. "Left off of what?"

"Why, Dimitri, of course. In fact, I think that's him over here, up against the wall."

Ratchet blinked, turning his head over to the right to see the scientist similarly relieved of his coat and top, strapped against what looked to be an ancient rack. On the far wall, partially obscured by the camera angle, there was writing in dark paint, of which Ratchet could only make out " . . . Dimitri? . . . -etch out as . . . -es its work. . . . your mind, the . . . -l in your shoulder . . . it. Good Luck."

Ratchet blinked, glancing back at Jigsaw. "What's he doing there?"

"He's going through a test. Just like you." She responded. "Hopefully he'll be smart enough to heed instructions unlike a certain Lombax I could name."

"What are you doing to him?" Ratchet glared, starting to lose his temper. "Tell me what's happening here!"

"Well . . . if memory serves me right, Dimitri needs to get moving rather quickly or else at minimum he'll be unable to walk." Jigsaw responded, as through trying to recall. Ratchet rolled his eyes, then widened them as another camera angle made the message on the wall clear.

"Still want to die, Dimitri?  
The rack will stretch out as  
the blade does its work.  
If you change your mind, the  
control panel in your shoulder  
should stop it. Good Luck."

"What the fuck . . ?" Ratchet whispered to himself, before snapping his head back to the monitor he originally saw Dimitri on, spotting a large bladed edge pressing into the small of Dimitri's back. "Get out of there! NOW!"

Ratchet heard laughter, snapping his head back to Jigsaw, watching her chuckle at his current predicament. "What's so funny?" Jigsaw didn't stop laughing, though, and this just seemed to enrage him further. "Stop laughing! This isn't funny!"

"Hehehe . . . maybe not, but watching you yell at a deaf guy certainly is." Jigsaw smirked. "Even if he could hear you, Ratchet, that room is entirely too far away from here. Dimitri is well and truly on his own, and the only thing you can do is sit there and watch him."

"No . . ." Ratchet hissed, gripping the arms of his chair, feeling gears. "No . . . there's got to be something, anything . . . you can't just expect me to sit here!"

"But I am expecting you to just sit here." Jigsaw responded. "Sit here, talk with me, and watch, that's all. It's not hard. It's probably the easiest mission you've ever had."

Ratchet had an incredulous look on his face. "Are you fucking insane? Dimitri could die here!"

"Then that's his decision, isn't it?"

"WHAT decision? From the look of that thing, he's about to get himself chopped in half if he doesn't-! Hold on, what is he- . . . ?" Ratchet blinked, looking at the screen where Dimitri's head started moving against his shoulder. "What's going on?"

Jigsaw smiled, glancing at another screen with a closer shot of Dimitri's head. "It looks like our friend has decided to live after all."

Ratchet blinked, trying to turn around to see Dimitri feeling around for the control device, before glaring down at the panel, baring his teeth. Dimitri winced, likely from the aforementioned blade slicing into his back, before biting into his shoulder, desperate to get access to the control switch. Ratchet winced as Dimitri managed to draw his own blood, fighting through the pain to get at the controls sealed inside, either not caring or unable to stop once he broke flesh.

Suddenly, Dimitri held the panel in his jaws, crushing it, forcing the rack to release its restraints, dumping Dimitri out onto the cold concrete floor. Dimitri clutched at his shoulder, recognizing the pain anew, but suddenly breathing easier as well. Dimitri laid there for a few moments, while Ratchet breathed out a sigh of relief at seeing Dimitri free himself.

"Ah, so nice to see them apply themselves." Jigsaw chimed, and this just seemed to make Ratchet's blood boil more. He glared, glancing up at the screen again to check on Dimitri's progress, as the scientist sat up to check the extent of his injuries.

Ratchet began alternating his glare from Dimitri, to Jigsaw, to Dimitri again, now truly on edge. "He's not done, is he?"

"Not in the least." Jigsaw replied, as Dimitri found a key with a note tied to it on the floor. Dimitri crawled towards it on his good arm, reaching out for the key.

Ratchet glared, unable to read the instructions this time, annoyed at both his helplessness and Jigsaw's teasing. He began to finger the gear the noticed near his right hand, hoping maybe to manipulate the clockwork in his favor. Jigsaw either seemed to be willfully trying to ignore Ratchet's attempt, or too absorbed in Dimitri's attempts to get back up and work the door, noticing that it was already open and that the key was in fact unnecessary.

"Smart." She muttered to herself, before glancing back at Ratchet. "Smarter than you seem to be, at any rate. Antsy much?"

Ratchet snarled, about to respond, when he saw Dimitri fall to the floor again, still clutching his shoulder, rolling out of the way of a spike trap near the doorway, impaling itself through the door Dimitri just opened, shattering the wooden frame. Bits of wood littered the room as Dimitri's eyes went wide in horror, and Ratchet's narrowed even tighter in anger.

"Take him out of there!" Ratchet snapped at her.

"Why?" Jigsaw sat up. "You don't deserve to be in there. You don't deserve to have to fight your way out of a corridor turned into a death course. Why would anyone want to be in there?"

Ratchet snarled. "Take him out of there, NOW!"

"Well someone's got to run that little gauntlet I set up, and I'm certainly not going to do it — there's no fun in it if I already know what to do, isn't there?" She shrugged, looking back at the monitors. "And clearly Dimitri's doing a good job on his own so far, since he's still alive."

"I don't care!" The Lombax hissed, rocking against his restraints, and gulping as he noticed a distinct tightening around his neck.

Jigsaw raised an eyebrow. "Now, now, Ratchet, you really should be careful. I told you that chair would send your head flying if you tried to set it off."

Ratchet glared at his apparent captor. "Put me in there, dammit. I'll run the stupid corridor instead of him."

She shook her head. "You still haven't told me why."

"Look at him!" Ratchet cried out. "He's weak! He's got no experience at this sort of thing! He's a goddamned bookworm! You may as well have put Big Al in there, and even that fatass would stand a better chance than him because at least Al still has a working set of- . . ."

Ratchet blinked, tapering off as he realized just what he was about to imply, and Jigsaw merely sat there, elbows propped up on her chair's arms, looking at Ratchet with a gaze of what seemed to merge infinite understanding and pity. At this, she just shook her head. "So you're a bigot."

"Liar." He spat.

"Don't give me that, Ratchet, you know as well as I do you were about to go frothing at the mouth about how Dimitri can't even hear what's coming for him next." Jigsaw responded, glancing back at the monitors. "You think I don't know this, Ratchet? You think I just pulled him aside to speak telepathically with him for the fun of it? I'm probably the only one aboard this ship at this point who has any grasp of that shattered scientist's psyche, Ratchet, and I've already had to modify my little 'experiment site' so that he didn't need to hear to keep his tail alive in there. Don't give me any nonsense about his 'abilities' or lack thereof. I'm already fully conscious of them."

She just stared at Ratchet in disbelief now, continuing on. "That's why I couldn't put anyone else in there with him, Ratchet. I'd have loved to gone in there and played up some 'innocent little virgin' complex, or something similar where I could just toss you in there with him and give the two of you a nice, cozy little pair-bonding exercise while the two of you worked together to navigate the corridor, but you know what I realized? Anyone I put in there, he would have grown dependant on them to hear, and I couldn't allow for that."

"Why, because it would have violated your 'experiment parameters'?" Ratchet growled, making little quotation marks with his hands.

"No." She narrowed her eyes, then smirked. "You still don't even realize why he's there and you're here, do you?"

Ratchet blinked. "There's an actual reason I'm here?"

"Of course."

"And said reason involves more than your own sadistic pleasures."

"You already know you're here for an experiment, Ratchet." Jigsaw responded, glancing back at her timer, dutifully displaying '01:25:43'. "Now let's find out if you can figure out what that experiment is."

Ratchet glared, his right hand having returned to its fiddling with the gear as he closed his eyes, trying to figure this all out. "You seem to want to put Dimitri through a death course, but have been 'generous' enough to modify the course so he didn't need to use audio clues to figure out what to do next or how to avoid the traps in front of him. You have made it impossible for you to interfere past your initial modifications, or for me to interfere in any form save whatever interference I can impose directly on you."

"So far, you're correct." Jigsaw responded, eyeing Ratchet carefully.

"You seem to insist that my involvement in this is also an experiment, although you never made it clear if this was a separate experiment to the one you're putting Dimitri through, or if my participation somehow was intertwined with Dimitri's." Ratchet continued, trying to keep his eyes shut and his mind off of the neck brace, now loosening its slack just enough for Ratchet to be comfortable again. "Since there is no discernable reason why simply talking with me for two hours would prove challenging in and of itself, and it is impossible for me to interfere in Dimitri's experiment, the only logical conclusion is that his participation is the one affecting my experiment, not the other way around."

"Good, good." Jigsaw grinned. "And what from there?"

"From that . . ." Ratchet glanced up at her, looking clearly agitated. "I can't make sense of the rest. Why would you put Dimitri in a course like that, and me here? It doesn't make any sense at all . . . if anything, it should be the other way around."

"Exactly!" Jigsaw hissed.

"Huh?" He blinked, caught off guard.

Jigsaw rolled her eyes. "That's why this is an experiment! I already know that you could decimate that little maze of traps and puzzles! I don't need to see you get through that to see if you consider life worth living!"

She glared at the screen, pointing at Dimitri. "That bag of fur, on the other hand, tried to kill himself earlier today! I can't afford to try and run this mission if I'm constantly worrying about whether or not my top scientist and main witness to whatever this experiment he's involved in is going to suddenly kill himself and leave us all hanging — no pun intended — and I figure if I can get a little proper fear into his system, he might actually be grateful to be alive for a change!"

Ratchet blinked, taken aback. "So that's what that was all about . . ."

"Yeah." Jigsaw replied. "Quite simply, I need to see Dimitri run this battery of tests. If he makes it, then clearly he has enough respect for at least his own life to act in his own interests for survival, which means that I can allow him to continue his research at his own pace, and perhaps prove himself useful to us after all. If he doesn't, then that tells me that he still wishes to die — that his own personality serves as a time bomb, almost. In that case, I would need to work with him to get all the information I can out of him before he eventually tries again to finish what he started, so that when it does happen, we're not left clutching at straws."

"I can't believe you'd think of Dimitri like that." Ratchet remarked. "He's more than just a 'resource', and you know it."

"Yes, but obviously I can only think as highly of him as he does of himself." Jigsaw sighed, before turning her eyes back to Ratchet. "You, on the other hand, are entirely too headstrong and trigger-happy for your own good. You'd gladly walk into a place like the one Dimitri's in, vipers blazing, missiles queued up and ready, gung-ho like a terrorist at a tea party. Therefore, I gave you a different test; just as deadly, but not as complicated. For once, you have to just sit still and be a good little kitten while others risk their lives, and if you can manage to do that, you live. Otherwise, that neck brace sends your head flying."

"Hang on; you're saying that I'm done too fucking much for this galaxy, so your idea is to strap me into a chair for two hours listening to your bullshit and watching on grainy feed as some deaf kid narrowly avoids death?" Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "And you expect this to actually work?"

"It's killing you just having to be helpless for that long, isn't it?" Jigsaw grinned.

Ratchet shook his head. "About time I came up against a proper sadist."

Jigsaw sat back in her chair, checking her timer: '01:19:54'. She smiled, glancing back at Ratchet. There was a compliment in that statement somewhere, I know it."


	15. Seeing to a Resolution

_It's the beginning of the end,  
You want things to go faster.  
It's the beginning of the end,  
Now everything's too slow for you.  
It's the beginning of the end,  
You are one step closer.  
It's the beginning of the end,  
Say Amen . . ._

- "Doctor Online" by Zeromancer

**Chapter 14  
Seeing to a Resolution**

* * *

Ratchet glared at Jigsaw sitting there, her focus returned to the screens where Dimitri was still apparently fighting for his life. He never thought he'd have to watch idly like this . . . let alone as someone's 'prisoner'. He knew Jigsaw had something disturbing planned all along . . . this must have been it.

"Compliment? Yeah, well . . . it wasn't a good one." Ratchet muttered to himself, glancing up as Dimitri timidly crawled down the hallway, eyes peeled for any further surprises. He watched for a few moments, as Dimitri timidly opened another door, apparently in a head of some kind. Steeling himself into a standing position, he walked in, eyeing the facilities — noting a sink, a toilet, and a cabinet of some kind, all looking clean and proper . . . too clean, in fact. He turned, and caught the door trying to close itself, but grabbed it by a knob, trying to pull it back into position. Dimitri then blinked, eyeing the door's construction, and noting that unlike the other room, which looked dusky and medieval, this head looked entirely too modern. Airtight, even.

He pulled himself into a tug of war with the door, fighting it to keep it open, even going so far as to wedge himself between the door and its threshold, before a blast of gas pushed him back into the hallway, closing the door shut with it. He tried to reopen the door, but after a few minutes of effort, gave up on it, shaking his head.

Jigsaw blinked, as though she didn't expect Dimitri to catch on so well. "Very nice . . . good attention to detail, I see."

"Please." Ratchet hissed back, absorbed into his own little world again, still fiddling with the gear. "What did the door have to do with anything?"

Jigsaw smirked. "Look, I know what was waiting for him on the other side of that door, and you don't, so take my word for it when I say the kid's doing well, okay?"

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "I'm not taking your word on any of this right now."

"Oh, really? Come over here and say that."

"No."

She chuckled. "You're taking my word on things, all right . . ."

Ratchet growled under his breath, glancing behind him to see that the counter on his chair had already dipped below the hour mark, while Jigsaw's timer still read '01:11:32'. At least some of his tinkering with the chair's clockwork was having an effect.

Ratchet must have been overly absorbed, however, as Dimitri inadvertently tripped over a wire of some kind, knocking him to the floor. Dimitri rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the plunging blade from the ceiling, and blinked as he noticed a note attached to the knife. Ratchet had heard the knife fall, but didn't understand that Dimitri had almost been too careless that time.

Jigsaw noticed Dimitri's carelessness, however, and noted Ratchet's ignorance even more. "Nothing to say this time?"

"I didn't see a whole lot worth saying." Ratchet responded, and Jigsaw narrowed her eyes. "What? What?"

"Just sitting there and you can't even do the damned experiment right . . ." Jigsaw muttered to herself as she watched, an idle segment of her mind noting what Ratchet was really paying attention to, and wondering how long he would keep thinking that she hadn't planned for that sort of subterfuge.

Dimitri pulled the note off the knife, reading it carefully before tracing along one of his ears, pulling off the silver cuff from his left ear, glancing around the circular room. He glanced up at an air vent, following its intended path, before spotting a pair of beakers at the end of one corridor, both approximately the same color of blue and about the same size. Dimitri eyed them both carefully, anxious not to touch or otherwise disturb them.

"Hope I got the formulas right." Jigsaw muttered to herself, causing Ratchet to blink — hadn't she stated she'd done this several times before? What was she doing, offering what appeared to be a chemical challenge to Dimitri when even she didn't know what to expect?

Ratchet glared, then widened his eyes as he noticed Jigsaw's smirk towards him. She was testing to see just how much attention he was paying to all of this. Obviously she wanted him to watch and worry about Dimitri — to actually feel some pity for the poor guy; why else would he be here? He couldn't actually believe that he was doing anything that she possibly thought needed correcting. After all, he'd already saved whole galaxies several times over; surely he was doing something right.

Dimitri examined the chemicals further, waving the note over both breakers, trying to get a sense of what made them different from each other, as though he could tell them apart by scent alone, before dipping his ear cuff into one of the beakers, examining it, and smirking. He wiped the cuff off before returning it to his ear, and picked up the beaker he tested, hurling its contents at the wall, and grinning madly as he noticed the very wall dissolving in front of him, revealing a new room.

"Clever." Jigsaw spoke, apparently to no one but herself, not even looking at Ratchet now as Ratchet no longer seemed to be paying attention to the monitors, now looking to fiddle with the gear near his right hand at an even faster rate, apparently freeing it to whiz around wildly, running at a frantic pace that should have alarmed Ratchet except for the general knowledge that if it was going to kill him, it would have already done so by now.

Ratchet grinned as his tinkering with the chair's gears near one arm had paid off, accelerating the clock down to nearly nothing, with Jigsaw not paying attention to the timer as she expected there to be at least an hour left on it. Her timer still seemed to be showing the right time, but Ratchet could tell that they were no longer synchronized.

Suddenly, the chair clicked. Restraints fell loose and away, and Ratchet grinned at what the new possibility meant for him. Jigsaw's eyes went wide as Ratchet pulled himself up, fur bristling in anger, eyes focused directly on her. "Game over, Jigsaw. Now get Dimitri out of there!"

"Or what, Ratchet?" Jigsaw cooed back, in mock surprise. "You'll kill me?"

"You know what . . . yeah, I will." He hissed, through with the mind games.

Jigsaw cocked her head. "You and what weapon?"

"Me and these weapons!" Ratchet dove on Jigsaw, hands outstretched, reaching for Jigsaw's neck. Jigsaw fell out of her chair, hitting the ground as Ratchet worked on sheer adrenaline, throttling his tormentor, expecting her to demand mercy as he choked the life out of her, one knee digging into her solar plexus while the other foot kept his balance. "Get. Him. Out."

Jigsaw coughed, trying to pry Ratchet off of her. "No!"

"Do it or you die!" Ratchet snarled. "You're in no position to be making demands!"

"Oh, I'm in every position . . ." Jigsaw wrapped a hand around Ratchet's throat, and he blinked. Jigsaw pushed herself up to a sitting position, then standing, as Ratchet noticed that her single grip was cutting off his blood supply, and he found himself on the other end of the assault he had tried just before.

Ratchet coughed, trying to make sense of this, when he caught Jigsaw snarling, and blinked. "Y . . . your teeth . . ."

"So nice of you to notice." Jigsaw smiled, her canines exposed now from their retracted state, revealing her trademark fangs. "And I warned you that you'd wish you were dead, didn't I? Now sit the fuck down!"

She tossed Ratchet backwards, causing him to trip back into his chair, half-expecting the restraints to strap him in again, but nothing came. From here, Ratchet could see that Jigsaw's appearance had changed subtly; her arms looked stronger, her midsection looked leaner, the claws on her hands appeared stronger and thicker . . . in short, she seemed more . . . feral.

Ratchet blinked. "You're not a Lombax, are you?"

Jigsaw chuckled, standing up and admiring her short-lived musculature. "Ah, so you're smarter than you look after all . . . but still a bit mistaken." She smiled. "I'm still a Lombax, Ratchet, but I believe I've been . . . forcibly evolved, so to speak."

She sat down, keeping an eye on Ratchet, allowing her fury to die down and her battle-hardy form to slip away. "You see, Ratchet, I left my orchestra in Metropolis, but it wasn't by choice. A few days before I joined up with DreadZone, I found myself attacked by what I first thought was a crazed fan . . . but after coming to and finding said crazed fan dripping his blood into my mouth, I naturally began to panic. I felt like death warmed over, and blinded by what I could consider little more than rage, I attacked him. The resulting struggle left him falling from what I then found out was a fifth floor balcony, impaled on a spire."

"Little harsh for dealing with fans, isn't it?" Ratchet remarked.

Jigsaw shrugged. "I wasn't in full control of my senses then, it seemed. I would find out rather quickly that killing my 'sire' so soon after the embrace was a mistake on several levels, but right then, I was concerned about rejoining my crew. I caught back up with them, but I discovered the changes suddenly, and rapidly. Ordinary food lost its taste, the sun seemed harsher than before to my eyes, and, most disturbing to me at the time, I noticed that my mind seemed to be able to sense things on its own; not the normal feminine intuition, mind you, but I could begin to read people's emotions and dip into their minds. I don't need to tell you how disturbing that can be to the untrained reader."

Ratchet sat up, still a little perplexed. "Was that why you left?"

"No, I left because by the time I'd found the flyers advertising for DreadZone, the police were getting suspicious about that fellow on a spire, and I decided to hoof it rather than convince the authorities of self-defense. As it turned out, I think his death was ruled a suicide . . . but since the events in my own mind weren't clear, I decided not to take chances." Jigsaw sat up, checking to make sure that her body had finished returning to normal. "As I progressed through DreadZone and my transformation became more complete, it became more clear what had happened to me. You remember that monk in the race, right? The one they were referring to as 'Cain'?"

Ratchet nodded, and one of the screens shifted from Dimitri's plight over to a profile shot of Cain from the race. Jigsaw smiled at it for a moment, but then returned her gaze to Ratchet before she continued. "Cain — or more accurately, Qin'Xu — was an exposed vampire, one who had been caught feeding by the authorities and summarily convicted for his predations. You see, Ratchet, on top of our own galactic culture, there exists a parallel civilization filled with criminals, thieves, general creatures of the night, and it's here where most vampires exist, keeping their advancements hidden and their biological 'differences' away from prying eyes and even more prying authorities who see them all as criminals to be decimated and studied."

Jigsaw bit her lip, placing a strayed hair behind one ear. "I eventually figured out from Qin what had happened to me; he didn't believe it at first, of course. It's supposed to be notoriously difficult to spread vampirism to new species, and my sire likely should've been executed summarily either way for attempting to do so when he could have just as easily killed me in the process. As far as I am aware, I'm the only vampiric Lombax in existence right now, and it will stay that way until I decide to 'embrace' new members into my brood."

"And you expect me to believe that shit?" Ratchet snapped. "I mean, come on, vampires, really . . . I figured you were at least more creative than that. Next you're going to tell me that you hypnotized Vox and all the others into letting you go straight to the top, and-"

Jigsaw stood up, walking over to Ratchet, her fangs still showing. "Tell me, Ratchet, do I need to extract blood from your neck to make you see what kind of truth I'm-"

Jigsaw stopped short as she heard a gunshot go off, turning to the screens to see Dimitri half-dazed, bleeding from an ear where the bullet nicked him. Ratchet blinked as well, noticing this. "Damn, I nearly forgot all about him . . ."

"He's done exceptionally well so far." Jigsaw replied. "I've not seen many pay so much attention to detail the way he does. Perhaps being deaf does have its benefits to survival after all."

"You've put others through this as well?" Ratchet blinked, standing up and looking at the various monitors, and noting the '00:18:42' on the timer.

"Lots of people. Different challenges, mind you, each one tuned to best handle the advantages and weaknesses of each 'victim', but almost all of them fell prey at one point or another. If Dimitri can make it out of there alive, he'll be the second person to ever do so."

Ratchet looked at her, worried. "That's a lot of people to kill over your experiments."

"I already told you, I didn't kill them . . . well, not all of them, and certainly not right then, at least." Jigsaw conceded, looking up at the monitors as Dimitri came to a locked doorway, looking confused, before reading the small note on the keypad, and searching around the room.

"Right then?" Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "What did you do to them, anyway?"

Jigsaw chuckled, watching Dimitri examine an end table, before kicking it to detonate an extra trap to get it out of his way. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Dimitri grinned, looking at the note revealed by causing the trap to trigger itself, before returning to the keypad, studying it carefully before tapping in a series of digits, finding himself delighted to see the door open. He wasn't nearly as delighted to see it containing an oxygen tank, however.

Dimitri picked it up, confused, before apparently catching a whiff of something. He turned around, horrified to see a colored vapor coming off of the recently detonated trap, and strapping the oxygen tank's mask to his own face, and carrying the tank under one arm as he started to panic, looking for a way out. Just then, he caught sight of one of the cameras, running headfirst into it, leaping for-

The feed suddenly and sharply cut off, causing the sounds of static to reverberate through the spherical room. Jigsaw keened as Ratchet covered his ears, and soon after, the feed just disappeared, leaving only blue screens of silence.

Ratchet blinked, looking at Jigsaw's timer, dutifully reporting only about eight minutes left, before Ratchet glanced up at the screens. They'd all gone out. Every last one. No noise. No feedback. No visual cues. Nothing.

Just then, he felt a pang, clutching his chest as though he should have seen this coming. Jigsaw glanced up, rewinding the feed up to the last clear moment, with the oxygen-masked Dimitri running for the camera, holding it still there, while she caught up with her own senses. Ratchet stared at that face, bearing down at him from all angles, suddenly feeling more disturbed than he thought possible.

Ratchet glanced down at Jigsaw, watching as she stood up. "He's . . . he's dead, isn't he?"

"I can't tell you that, Ratchet." Jigsaw replied, watching the still screens. "There's still seven minutes and five sec-"

"Don't give me that shit!" Ratchet hissed, grabbing her by the arm, receiving a hiss from Jigsaw in return. "You know what happened to Dimitri. You have to. You were bragging about your 'total control' in this experiment."

Jigsaw cast a sidelong glance at Ratchet. "No, Ratchet. I don't."

"Bullshit. I don't know how you manage to read people's minds, but I know you did enough of it to be able to plant those chemicals for Dimitri earlier. I know you planned enough to set up two different challenges for the both of us, obviously taking enough care to make them both distinctive and difficult. I'm almost willing to bet that you even planned for me to find a way to disarm that chair at some point in the process." Ratchet remarked, then blinked. "Oh . . ."

Jigsaw had her head bowed during most of Ratchet's ranting, but then grinned as she knew that Ratchet had figured the last part of the experiment out. "Now you get it."

Ratchet walked over to Jigsaw, almost in disbelief. " . . . you knew what happened to Dimitri before I even woke up."

Jigsaw smiled. "Now I can tell you what happened to him. This way, please."

Jigsaw pushed one row of the screens out of the way, leading Ratchet down a small passageway. Dimitri was passed out on a cot, still protectively clutching his oxygen tank. As soon as Ratchet saw him, he pushed Jigsaw aside, checking Dimitri for a pulse.

Jigsaw smirked, noting Ratchet's doting behavior. "After Dimitri broke out of the corridor, having triggered the gases, I had to interfere and take him away from the area. He's been out here the whole time, sleeping off the aftereffects and recovering from what injuries he did suffer — you'll notice that his shoulder, lower back, and ear have been dressed with bandages, by the way — while we've been watching what was effectively a tape-delay." Jigsaw smirked, proud of herself.

Ratchet looked over at her as he pulled Dimitri's mask off, lifting the scientist to his feet, hugging him tightly. Jigsaw felt a simpering smile cross her face as she watched the two embrace, having some general feeling that, perhaps, she'd done it all right for a change and that once the general euphoria of survival wore off, both Ratchet and Dimitri would be able to work together now and perhaps even thank her for her trouble. She closed her eyes momentarily, feeling a rare blush on her face.

Her eyes cracked wide open as she heard the priming come to life on a pair of dual vipers, blinking as Dimitri and Ratchet held one each, both pointed right at her. She looked up at both of them wordlessly, in disbelief. Dimitri and Ratchet both shared a small smirk, before realigning their gaze on Jigsaw again, both vipers aimed squarely at her head.

"You know what? You're right, Jigsaw." Ratchet grinned. "You didn't have total control after all."

Jigsaw blinked, speechless. "Okay, I'm going to try and put this in a way that both of your tiny, testosterone-driven minds can comprehend this at the same time . . ." _. . . you DO both realize that this is a dream, right? _

The lights suddenly went bright, and Dimitri and Ratchet both blinked, momentarily stunned. By the first blink, they were aware that they were back in the viewing room, as dressed as they were when they fell asleep, both standing in front of a sitting Jigsaw who now looked both disheveled and slightly annoyed. They were both still aiming a viper each at her, but now also aware that Adari'a and Cypress were awake as well, having their weapons trained on the two male Lombaxes, with Adari'a and Cypress both clearly agitated and narrow-eyed. Big Al, not knowing what to make of the situation, aimed his robotic arm at Dimitri and Ratchet as well, trying painfully to blend in.

Ratchet snarled, before putting a hand on Dimitri's weapon as well, instructing him to stand down. Adari'a lowered her weapon, relieved, and Big Al did likewise. The only one still armed and aiming was Cypress, who now redirected her weapon's sight to Jigsaw, apparently just to get Jigsaw's attention before lowering hers as well.

Ratchet blinked, as did Dimitri, both of them staring at Cypress after her recent actions, before the lizard spoke. "Goddess . . . Jigsaw, I TOLD you those tests were going to get your head blown off one of these days!"


	16. Cursing Cures Everything!

_ I wonder why I wonder how_

_That it seems the powers getting stronger  
Every day  
I feel a strength an inner fire  
But I'm scared I won't be able to control it anymore . . ._

- "The Clairvoyant" by Iron Maiden

**Chapter 15  
Cursing Cures Everything!**

* * *

Ratchet's first words once he fully came to his senses echoed clear to the bridge of the ship. "FUCK YOU!" 

"That's what I was trying to prevent, thank you very much . . ." Jigsaw responded as everyone went walking down the ship, with Jigsaw walking a few paces ahead of Ratchet and Dimitri, arms crossed, followed by Al, Adari'a, and Cypress. Ratchet was still understandably steaming from last night's events, and while Dimitri wasn't saying anything, his current agitation and proximity to Ratchet seemed to say enough.

To think that Ratchet could ever say enough, of course, felt like a statistical impossibility right then. "You fucking dragged us into your fucked-up nightmare to play with us like a pair of lab rats, and you expect us to just accept that! I don't know what the hell you think you just did, but I'm damned sure there's a war treaty somewhere in this galaxy that considers it a breech of every rule of engage-!"

Ratchet stopped short as a hand clapped onto his shoulder, and he turned to see Dimitri frowning at him, holding a hand up. Ratchet raised an eyebrow, only to be met with a look on Dimitri's face that seemed to calm Ratchet down a couple notches.

Al blinked, turning to Adari'a. "Did I miss something?"

"No, this is a new one . . . new to me at least." Adari'a replied. "Those two wouldn't be the first to complain about it, mind you . . . they'd be the first in a while, though."

Al glanced at Ratchet, then back at the centaur. "Since when?"

"I couldn't tell you the last time she tried something like this, but I do remember when she did it to Aeris . . . scratch that, when I _think _she did it to Aeris . . . and I have to just tell you right now, if she hadn't pulled rank back then I honestly think he'd have flayed her right in front of Gleeman himself!" She remarked. "I never did figure out what him screaming about being 'plucked like a chicken' had to do with it though . . ."

Ratchet blinked for a moment, trying to figure that statement out himself, but then returned his focus back onto staring daggers at the back of Jigsaw's head. They quickly arrived at what seemed to pass for a mess hall, and suddenly the group of them all stopped up at the entrance, trying to figure out what was supposed to happen next.

Jigsaw glanced back, looking at Cypress. "Well? You were the one that wanted everyone out of the viewing room . . ."

"And if you hadn't woken everyone in there up in the first place, there'd still be people in there. Now sit down, everyone. Addy, Al, you two are welcome to stay and watch, but I don't expect you two to stay for the entire thing."

"So how much does she expect us to stay for?" Al remarked.

"Probably long enough to figure out how Jigsaw ended up on the wrong end of two vipers." Adari'a replied as they filed into the room, everyone sitting down with little discussion between them, although Ratchet bristled at having to sit next Jigsaw. Cypress seemed to glare at Jigsaw while she took her seat, but said nothing until enough uncomfortable silence had built up in the room that she was certain, at least initially, that nobody was killing anyone else right now.

Cypress glanced down, able to see all three of her troublemakers in a row, before pulling out a pad and pencil and sliding it down the table to Dimitri. "Which one of you wants to go first?"

"She started it." Ratchet replied, pointing a finger.

"Real mature . . ." Jigsaw rolled her eyes, then looked at Cypress, whose eyes were anything but rolling. "I was running that 'test' I asked permission for, remember?"

"Hang on, she agreed to let you pull that voodoo-crap on me?" Ratchet blinked, before looking up at Cypress. "I don't believe this . . ."

"Cool it, Ratchet. I didn't know she was doing anything to you." Cypress replied, and Ratchet calmed down some, before she changed her tone, turning to Jigsaw. "You only asked permission for Dimitri."

Ratchet blinked, his eyes turning back to Cypress. "Whose side are you on here?"

"Hey, she told me that he was a risk!" Cypress snapped back, pointing a finger down to Jigsaw. "If I didn't believe her when she said Dimitri had his neck half in the noose, I would have slammed it down point blank!"

"So Jigsaw was telling me the truth back there when she . . ." Ratchet spoke, then glanced back to Dimitri dutifully ignoring the current conversation in favor of writing on his notepad, before looking back at Cypress, then Jigsaw. "You mean . . . you actually were . . . and . . ." Ratchet blinked, then put a hand to his forehead, groaning. "Okay, my brain just stalled. Give it a moment."

"Yes, Ratchet, I was telling you the truth the whole time." Jigsaw responded. "Speaking of which, that nice exposition I gave you after you disarmed your own trap and tried to strangle me . . . our little secret, okay?"

"Like anyone would believe me." He replied, still upset.

"I would." Adari'a remarked offhand, one elbow on the table as apparently both herself and Al were taking this in quite well.

"You already knew this one anyw-."

"Hold on, hold on . . ." Ratchet spoke, cutting Jigsaw off, looking up at Cypress. "Okay, I'm beginning to understand what happened here . . . I want to know why the hell you signed off on it then, and just what you thought she was doing."

Cypress looked over at Ratchet, hands on the table. "There's a little history to this. Jigsaw, partway through the first season, realized a certain little 'ability' of hers that we encouraged her to develop, thinking that it would become useful for the show. As it turned out, her mental trick only worked under very limited conditions — a certain proximity to the victim, most specifically, which was entirely too small to consider using, and for that matter only had a limited visual appeal that didn't always come across well on camera."

"Trick?" Ratchet raised an eyebrow.

"A certain form of hypnosis; she's able to make the intended victims think they're in a particular situation or location, akin to a strange dream. I believe she referred to it as 'slipping' . . ." Cypress trailed off, trying to remember what she was going to say afterwards. "While this obviously wasn't useful to us in terms of actual application for the show, we did notice that the mental effect it had on its victims was astounding; they seemed to be able to perfectly remember the experience, and apparently Jigsaw was good at crafting up enough experiences for it to have an effect. The end result left Jigsaw with carte blanche permission to find some utility for it as she thought was needed; only later did I find out that she was using it to gain a mental edge by scaring the daylights out of the others. If I remember right, the night before the Icarus Orbit episode, she somehow managed to get eight people going at once in one of her little nightmares."

Adari'a blinked. "That explains a lot about that episode, actually . . ."

"Thank me later." Jigsaw remarked back, looking more than just a little miserable sitting there.

Meanwhile Ratchet just had an incredulous look on his face at all of this. "And how does this translate into her asking permission for what she did last night?"

"Because once I figured out what was going on, I made it clear that her little 'tests' were only to be used on DreadZone contestants — I figured if they were already condemned as is, whatever she was going to scare them with could only have so much effect." Cypress glared down at Jigsaw. "I only cleared Dimitri's nightmare because she seemed to stress that he was 'at risk'. If I had known you were involved, Ratchet, I wouldn't have allowed it."

"All the boy had to do was sit still for two hours . . . when the idea occurred to me, I figured it wasn't worth asking about." Jigsaw muttered.

"Sit still, sure . . ." Ratchet hissed. "You were asking me to watch Dimitri die! There is no way in hell you could expect anyone to sit by idly while that was going on!"

"He was already safe by the time you were watching it." She retorted.

"Not the point!" Ratchet growled, before hearing a ruffling noise, and then skittering.

Dimitri's notepad slid across the table, back into Cypress's hand, followed by the pencil. Ratchet blinked, then turned to notice Dimitri putting his head on the table, trying to ignore the bickering. Cypress picked the notepad up, blinking as she read it, leaning back in her seat some.

Ratchet perked up, curious, while Jigsaw glanced around, a small smile of satisfaction on her face. "What's it say?"

"That boy gets it." Jigsaw smirked.

"Basically." Cypress blinked. "Well . . . not so basically. Dimitri basically retold what you put him through last night — which I'm not going to go into here because, quite frankly, I want to be able to eat breakfast in a few minutes — but then he says at the end that Ratchet handed him one of his dual vipers and convinced him to play along . . . Okay, I've heard enough to piece together what happened here."

Adari'a blinked, and Big Al raised a hand. "Er . . . mind if we . . . ?"

"You two were free to leave any time you wanted. That said, please go ahead and take Dimitri with you." Cypress replied. "I think our survivor over there could use some breakfast."

Adari'a nodded, tapping the scientist on the shoulder to wake him up before she scooped Dimitri up in her arms, smiling a bit. Dimitri blinked, slightly amazed, but hardly complaining as she walked off with Dimitri still in her arms, Big Al by her side.

Ratchet watched them head towards what looked like food, before glancing up at Cypress. "What about us?"

"I'm not through with you two." Cypress raised an eyebrow. "Jigsaw, I want two explanations, and make them good; First, give me the real reason you decided to invite Ratchet along in your experiment, and my being unable to give you permission in my sleep does not count."

Jigsaw blanched, glancing at Ratchet. "I . . ." She sighed. "I was concerned Ratchet was gaining a little too much interest in me for his own good."

"I'm not supposed to wonder about what strange girls wearing detonated DeadLock collars are trying to do to me?"

"Wrong kind of interest." Jigsaw responded curtly.

Ratchet blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "_That_ was why I got dragged into your game? You thought I was hitting on you?"

"You were imagining a lot more than 'hitting on' me, I know that much."

"I was- ? Oh, come on, that's perfectly normal stuff and you know it! I can't believe you dragged me into your little chamber of horrors over that . . . I mean, come on, I can't control those kind of things." Ratchet hissed. "At this rate, the next time that comes into my head, you'll probably have a trap jaw for a-."

"Ratchet!" Cypress cut him off. "I'm not standing for that kind of mental imagery on an empty stomach, although that does lead into my second demand quite nicely. Now, Jigsaw, I want a damn good answer for this one . . . why, for the love of the Goddess, did you completely fuck Ratchet's test up to this level?"

"What?" Ratchet barked incredulously, while Jigsaw groaned, putting her hands over her head.

"Ratchet, I will be the first to apologize to you for what Jigsaw pulled last night." Cypress replied, a sincere look on her face. "The fact of the matter remains that I have never known Jigsaw to be this careless. I have watched her in DreadZone from almost every angle and scenario imaginable. I have seen this girl pore for ages over the music she uses in her fights, over the battle plans and schematics for her missions, and when I finally ended up having to work with her . . . well, if you ever get to see her set up a proper storming, she is absolutely incredible."

Cypress chuckled, almost lost in nostalgia, before calming back down. "My point is, her slip nightmares are meant to be to the same quality, if not more, because she has actual and total control over the setup right down to the floorboards. Going through the nightmare is meant to be a complete pain in the ass, make no mistake about that, but a survived nightmare should leave the victim with a euphoria akin to a religious experience. Jigsaw did Dimitri's nightmare right, because that's almost exactly what he seemed to report in his note to me. You, on the other hand, survived but saw some need to exact revenge on Jigsaw for her overt involvement."

Ratchet glared up at the lizard, not convinced. "And exactly how would you know how it's supposed to feel after putting up with her yanking your chain after one of these things?"

"She should know." Jigsaw responded, her voice slightly muffled from her hunched position. "She was the first survivor."

Ratchet paused, glancing up at Cypress in awe, propping an elbow up on the table to support his chin. "Suddenly, I see you in a completely different light."

"Now you realize how gross an error this is for Jigsaw to ruin a slip nightmare to this level." Cypress remarked, scratching the back of Jigsaw's head with an errant finger, only to have it swatted away. "I'm not about to let her live this one down for a while . . ."

"Stop it!" Jigsaw hissed, upset. "Okay, I messed up his slip. Are you happy now?"

"I just wanted to know why; I mean, Jigsaw, this isn't like you at all. You botched your fight with him on Veldin, you clearly botched his experiment, and, to be blunt, fighting and mentally scarring people are two things you should have had down pat years ago. Why you would suddenly loosen up your tactics and techniques to deal with him is an absolute enigma."

Ratchet blinked, then smirked as he twigged it. "Oh, I know why she messed up both times . . ."

Jigsaw's head shot up, a disturbed look on her face as his thought hit her, and she turned to glare at Ratchet. "Fuck you."

"Hey, that's what I said, but you swore you were trying to prevent that . . ." Ratchet chuckled, only to get a secondary growl from her, this time with her fangs out. "Woah, woah, hey, easy now, girl, you can't drink the milk if you kill the cow!"

"I can't believe you . . ." She hissed, then turned to face Cypress. "Either of you! I figured at least she knew me better than that!"

"Of course I do, but damned if I was going to come out and say something like that to you before you were going to." Cypress replied, smirking.

"Damn it all, both of you!" Jigsaw growled, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head in embarrassment. "I've had enough of this. I'm out of here."

Jigsaw headed for the door amid Ratchet now chuckling, glaring at Cypress as she stood at the exit, as though waiting for an apology. Cypress regained her composure for just a moment before speaking. "You realize I'm still cutting your rations for the next week over this."

"Whatever." Jigsaw spat before leaving through the door, away to the rest of the ship. As soon as the door closed shut, Cypress could no longer contain her laughter, letting out a burst that caused Ratchet to start up again, and on the other side of the door, it made Jigsaw's fur bristle.

Cypress covered her mouth to hide her laughter, then glanced down at Ratchet. "Did you honestly mean 'can't drink the milk if you kill the cow'?"

"Pretty good for a spur of the moment, don't you think?" Ratchet glanced up at her.

She shrugged, still chuckling. "Eh . . . bit explicit for my tastes, but it works. I do have one lingering question for you, though."

"Oh? What's wrong?" Ratchet calmed down, his ears perking up.

"Nothing's wrong. It's just that Jigsaw mentioned something about telling you a 'secret' of hers." Cypress replied, leaning down to bring her head to Ratchet's level. "I'm interested in finding out what she told you."

Ratchet cringed back a bit. "I think the point in it being a secret is that I don't go around telling everyone else . . ."

"The key word is 'else'." Cypress remarked, sitting back up, pulling Ratchet in with her to sit him on top of the table. "Look, Ratchet, she sat right here and said that Adari'a already knew it. Now, over the time the three of us have been floating out here, there's not that many secrets left that aren't all understood to be between the three of us. So you can rest assured that whatever you're about to tell me about her, I probably already know it. I just want to know which one of her cards she decided not to hold so close to her chest."

"Well . . ." Ratchet blanched, looking off a bit. "I didn't buy into a whole lot of it at the time . . . something about an embrace and a sire, and-"

"She told you THAT?" Cypress exclaimed, then held her jaw in disbelief. "I don't believe it . . ."

Ratchet picked up a worried look on his face, backing up on the table some. "Er, maybe I should just go and-"

"No, no . . . it's fine, Ratchet." Cypress put out a hand, reassuring him. "I'm just shocked is all."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow, worried. "Is it bad?"

"Nah, I've known that about her for a lot longer than you. It's not one to go telling people, obviously . . . but I know, Addy knows, and Jigs knows that we know, so as long as you don't know mouthing off to too many other people besides the three of us about that, it'll be fine." Cypress remarked, then smiled. "Though it looks like your idea about her can't be too far off the mark after all."

"That's a relief, th-. EEP!" Ratchet spoke, then squeaked as Cypress latched onto him for a hug. "Don't make me tell you twice, I need air!"

Cypress grinned, hugging Ratchet again, before dusting him off and smiling once more. "Welcome to the family, Ratchet. We may be crazy as hell, but you'll fit right in!"


	17. Shake it Up, Sign it Down

_Don't forget to call my lawyers  
With ridiculous demands  
And you can take the pity so far  
But it's more than I can stand  
'Cause this couchtrip's gettin' older —  
Tell me how long has it been,  
'Cause five years is forever  
And you haven't grown up yet!_

- "You Could Be Mine" by Guns N' Roses

**Chapter 16  
Shake it Up, Sign it Down**

* * *

Adari'a knocked on a metal door, having changed into a new shirt and holding a tray of some kind. "You in there, 'Saw?" 

"Why?" Jigsaw shot back through the door, her gruffness catching Adari'a by surprise.

Adari'a rolled her eyes, having to use both hands to stabilize her tray. "Just wanted to talk. I even brought that 'Earl Grey' stuff." She waited a moment, her tray still jiggling a bit, before the door slid open, at which point a smile ran across the lion's face as she walked on in.

The smell of sweet soap caught her as she stepped inside, spotting Jigsaw's ears just above the surface, standing out against the bubbles in the large circular tub. Lacking a large enough table, Adari'a waded in as well in order to put the tray and assorted tea accoutrements over near the lip of the tub, before grabbing hold of Jigsaw by an ear and yanking up, causing the Lombax to gasp and dig the claws on her left hand into Adari'a's arm.

"Would you mind? Those piercings don't stay in by themselves . . ." Jigsaw snapped, still in a lousy mood.

"Sorry . . ." Adari'a sighed, making note of the water level before calming down once she realized it wasn't soaking her shirt. "Ratchet and Cypress send their apologies about earlier today and say they didn't mean to find so much humor in your infatuation with-"

"I am not!" Jigsaw snarled before submerging herself, bubbling momentarily before resurfacing. "Oh . . . who the hell am I kidding? They're right."

Adari'a blinked "You're admitting that? Are you feeling well? You're not usually one to concede a point."

"I'm fine, just . . damp." Jigsaw smirked. "It's obvious I've let Ratchet's history color my current interactions with him. And certainly attempting to do the majority of Ratchet's slip on the fly rather than plotting out a gauntlet for him was a mistake on several levels."

The centaur just shook her head, pouring a cup of the tea. "I just don't understand why you did it in the first place . . . Wasn't getting paid to kill people on holovision enough mayhem for you?"

"It's been a while." Jigsaw remarked. "Besides, I wanted to make sure that Dimitri and Ratchet were going to be dependable."

"Dimitri I can understand. Ratchet . . . the guy's saved the galaxy, what, three times now? Four if you count stopping Gleeman from stripping Solana dry of its muscle . . ."

"Dependable for us, I meant." Jigsaw remarked, leaning on the lip of the tub. "After all, if those people after Dimitri back on Quartu were from Vox, we could still be dealing with a dangerous snake, no matter how well Ratchet sliced off the head."

Adari'a shrugged. "I think we'll be fine for now. Although we may need to recalculate how long our food stores are going to last with that many men aboard."

"Compared to you and Cypress? They can't make that much of a dent in the food supplies." Jigsaw reached out for the teacup, taking a quick sip. "Gangrel, can you extrapolate from breakfast how much our three boys are going to make a dent in our stores?"

There was a small moment's hesitation before a nearby speaker grill came to life. "Certainly, Miss Forte."

"Excellent. Please go ahead and tell me how long we can go before we need to touch base in a port." Jigsaw called out again, before taking another sip of her tea. "Damn, I forgot how much I liked this stuff . . ."

"Miss Forte, all the calculations are complete." Gangrel spoke up again a few moments later, although her voice seemed to lose its initial cheeriness.

Jigsaw picked up on the vocal inflection, her ears perking up. "Well? Tell me!"

Gangrel paused for a moment. "Please put the teacup down first. I know how much you like it, and I would rather you not waste it on a spit take."

The Lombax blinked, passing the cup off to Adari'a. "It's not a big number, I'm guessing."

"Exactly." The ship intelligence hesitated for another second. "I'm sorry to report that we can only stay out of the spaceports for another 36 hours."

"That's ridiculous!" Jigsaw barked, nearly launching herself out of the tub as she reached for a robe.

Adari'a blinked as well, trying to keep Jigsaw from knocking the teapot over. "Gangrel, I think you must be mistaken . . . We should have a week's worth of food aboard, even with their appetites."

"I didn't factor in the food supply to my calculations. I halted the exercise as soon as I determined what the first thing to run out would be."

Jigsaw pulled on a terrycloth robe, almost in disbelief. "Exactly what are we missing on this ship that could run out in 36 hours? Fuel? Water? Oxygen?"

"My ship registration." Gangrel replied matter-of-factly. "If we are still flying once my license expires, we will be in violation of the law."

"Note to self: the minute we return to Veldin, fire my no-good assistant." Jigsaw muttered.

"We really should let it go. No self-respecting Ranger is going to pull us over for an out-of-date license." Adari'a remarked, taking a sip out of her own cup.

"I would not recommend that. If we do not land before my license expires, we will be unable to land at any spaceport except possibly within the Shadow Sector without subjecting ourselves to a rigorous search procedure, including inspection of all passengers, cargo, and the last three weeks of my records." Gangrel responded, and Adari'a made a face, having to hold herself back from doing her own spit take.

Jigsaw's reaction was immediate. "We can't allow that! My coolers alone are enough to raise suspicion!"

"Which is why I stated we needed to land before then. If we're on the ground when my license expires, then all we need to do is have the license reinstated at the airport, with only a minimal inspection to make sure I'm space-worthy, if any inspection is needed at all."

"Fine." Jigsaw tied her robe tight. "Gangrel, plot a course for the nearest spaceport we can reach in 36 hours that's also capable of issuing Courier-Class licenses."

"Understood." Gangrel replied, before responding. "Miss Jigsaw? I'm afraid your search criteria returned no results . . ."

Clear across the other side of the ship, back in the mess hall, Ratchet suddenly felt a stabbing cry of anger wash through his mind, causing him to drop his fork and reach for his head. It just came to him for no apparent reason, leaving Ratchet to wonder how such a thought got into his head in the first place.

The door opened to let Clank inside, who happened to catch Ratchet still holding his forehead from the minor headache. "Ratchet, are you all right?"

"Something just . . . you know that stupid movie where the planet blows up, and then this old man in the ship suddenly goes on about how he just heard the cries of an entire civilization being silenced?"

Clank blinked, looking slightly confused. "Yes . . ."

"I just had one of those moments." Ratchet spoke, before walking out the doorway, and spotting Cypress holding her head as well. "You too?"

"What do you mean, 'me t-'. Oh . . ." Cypress remarked. "Goddess, I hate it when she does that."

Clank tapped Ratchet's shoulder. "Ratchet, I've just been informed by Gangrel that she wants everyone at the bridge. She says it's important."

Ratchet blinked. "Everybody?"

"She insisted." Clank replied, then took hold of Ratchet by a hand to drag him along. Cypress followed as well, keeping in step. "I was originally intending to rendezvous with you after last night, but after catching the surveillance tapes I wasn't sure how well my presence was about to be tolerated."

Cypress blinked. "What, by us?"

"Jigsaw did not seem as . . . enthusiastic about my presence." Clank replied, unsure of the right words.

"Don't take it personally." Cypress replied as they arrived at the bridge, where the little doll-node of Gangrel was already up, hovering, and waiting for them.

It took a few minutes for everyone else to arrive, which eventually happened once Adari'a came into the room with Jigsaw astride her, still toweling off one of her ears before she dismounted and spoke up. "My apologies for interrupting everyone's events, but I felt this was serious enough to inform all of you at once, and hopefully at least one of you should have a decent idea."

"What's happened?" Al spoke up, concerned.

"Nothing yet, but there will be if we don't figure out a plan quickly." She remarked. "I'll get the ship herself do the talking on this one."

The doll node nodded her head, before turning towards most of the crew. "At 0952 I informed Captain Forte that my Courier-Class licensing is due to expire within the next 36 hours. After recording a note at 0954 to remind Jigsaw to fire her assistant once we return to Veldin, I found myself unable to locate a spaceport within our current time restrictions that was also capable of issuing or renewing my license — both of which are critical prerequisites to my continued flight."

"She's captain?" Ratchet whispered to Cypress.

"She speaks best with Gangrel. Technically, I paid for the ship, but since it's her intelligence flying it . . ."

"And before anyone asks, flying unlicensed is not an option." Jigsaw barked out, gesturing for emphasis. "Aside from it completely blowing our cover, we've got enough insanity as is without letting a bunch of low-level government twits dig through my baby's circuits."

Cypress turned to Gangrel. "What spaceports match closest with our current criteria?"

"There is a spaceport located on Orxon which will accept us, but their issuance systems are currently closed and are presumed to remain closed for the next three weeks. If we land there, we will be effectively marooned on the planet until an issuing officer arrives." Gangrel explained. "Since we only have enough food to sustain ourselves for the next eleven days, I do not think this will be an acceptable option."

"Not to mention the stench." Ratchet remarked, idly noticing Dimitri reading Gangrel's speech at a nearby console.

"The next most likely target would be Kronos, which, while it would only take a few days in comparison to wait for relicensing to process remotely-."

"Is well within the Shadow Sector and hence off-limits, period." Adari'a shot back.

"Exactly. Even with the Vox Empire in its crippled state, we have no reason to trust that the planet is safe for that long of a stay. After all, if the locals recognize any of you, they might become a problem."

Cypress nodded. "We get the point. Next option?"

"The Galactic Rangers currently have a plate located near Oltanis where it is using the planet's storms to recharge." Gangrel explained, pulling out a holographic map and pointing to it with a stubby, chubby hand. "The area is highly secure and would normally only allow us to stay aboard for 48 hours, if that, but thanks to Jigsaw's capacity as Protectorate, we should be able to 'pull rank' and remain on the ship for as long as needed."

"So what's the problem with that location?" Clank responded.

"They don't issue Courier-Class licensing. Unfortunately, Courier-Class is seen as primarily a civilian license, and while they are willing to license for Militia-Class and Dragon-Class, the closest substitutes to our desired license, the former requires more square footage and weapons capacity than we qualify for."

"And what's wrong with Dragon-Class?" Ratchet put a hand up. "I mean, I've been working out of Fighter-Class ships for ages now. Dragon-Class doesn't sound that bad."

"Dragon-Class is a downgrade from our current setup." Jigsaw remarked. "Not only would we still need to develop a weapons capacity, I'd have to hand-rip Gangrel out of the ship myself. She needs to be Courier-Class or better in order to live here, and we'd need everyone here to spend nearly all their time running the ship without her assistance!"

Dimitri started waving a hand, keeping his other one firmly on the screen, trying to get someone's attention. Fortunately, Clank walked over, but this failed to attract Ratchet's attention as well, and so Ratchet just kept going. "Look, if we can't get the right license now, maybe we should just take the one we know can get."

"Madam." Clank spoke up, but no one seemed to hear him.

"Oh, sure, I'm just going to manually remove Gangrel's current latches into thirteen different life-sustaining functions and sixteen navigational programs and gadgets, you're going to fix up our weapons bays so we can fire a few flatulent missiles, and everything's going to work out great when we're all tending screens and playing our little maintenance puzzles ad infinitum just so we can get back to-!"

Clank coughed, trying again. "Madam!"

"Look, it's not the greatest solution, I'll admit, but at least it'll get us back to Veldin where we can fix the licensing and put it all back in and everything should be fine again." Ratchet sniped back. "Because God forbid you be unable to take a moment's rest so you can terrorize the rest of us with your mind-reading voodoo and hypnotism to strap deaf kids into-!"

"Madam Jigsaw!" Clank shouted, and finally Clank had five heads turned to face him. "Dimitri has been observing some of Gangrel's notes and I believe he's found a solution."

"Spill it, bolt-breath." Jigsaw snapped back.

Clank looked slightly taken back, but quickly continued unabated. "It appears the _Gangrel_ already has weapons bays, albeit they are unused and in a slight state of disrepair. If we could get the weapons bays up to spec and add on new shielding to meet standards, Dimitri and I believe that we can have the ship upgraded to Courier-Plus, a classification which the galactic plate _San Andreas_ is more than willing to license."

Jigsaw blinked, as though having a slight epiphany, before walking over to Dimitri and Clank. "How much are we talking in terms of covering the cost of these upgrades?"

"It would depend on the prices we face once we reach the ship. As this is a government craft, it may be given to us free of charge; in the more likely case that we will need to compensate them for the ammunition and parts, I estimate anywhere from eight to twenty-five thousand in upgrade costs."

"I don't think we have that much on hand." Jigsaw responded.

Cypress shook her head. "Not up front, no, but I should be able to talk them into accepting a credit. My money's still good."

"I don't think there'll be any shortage of bolts if we go there anyway — I mean, come on, it's a plate, right?" Ratchet offered up in confidence, before leaning over towards Al. "What are they talking about when they say 'plate', anyway?"

"You don't want to know how big this ship we're planning to land on is." Al remarked. "Plate-Class is the largest ship classification out there."

"All right then, it's settled. Gangrel, set a course for the galactic plate San Andreas, and start hailing the ship to let them know of our arrival." Jigsaw ordered, before tacking on, "I don't want to waste any more time on there getting you upgraded than we need to."

"Order noted, Captain. Permission to go ahead with shopping for the extra munitions and hardware I'll need?"

Jigsaw smirked. "Okay, but don't purchase anything right now. We need to wait and see what the situation is when we land there."

The little doll node nodded, before floating off back to her previous work. Jigsaw smirked, before glancing back at Clank. "Er . . . sorry about the whole 'bolt-breath' remark. It's just that I'm used to organic interfaces more than-."

"Relax, Madam. I'm sure I'll gain your full respect in due time." Clank responded, then turned as he began to fire off a series of gestures at Dimitri, who responded back in kind.

Ratchet blinked. "Since when did you know how to sign, anyway?"

"I downloaded a 'Galactic Sign Language' dictionary module last night." Clank remarked. "I felt that at least one of us should be able to communicate with him in the manner he seems most comfortable with."

"Wow . . . Nice work." Jigsaw blinked, once again slightly impressed. "Seems like it'd be slow conversation, though."

"No worse than most other languages." Clank replied, his hands still going, with Dimitri nodding along. "I think he appreciates the effort."

Ratchet nodded, watching Dimitri's hands for a minute, before getting slightly dizzy. "So . . . what's he going on about now?"

"He seems to be asking more about DreadZone itself than the ship for now — he seems to be intrigued by that first episode we watched. Apparently, he only watched a few episodes towards the end of the show's span, and had no idea of DreadZone's actual history."

Dimitri went on a bit further, to which Clank explained, "And quite frankly, Ratchet, he's a little shocked at what he remembers seeing you do."


	18. Interview with a Vampire

_Once I wished for this night  
Faith brought me here  
It's time to cut the rope and  
Fly to a dream  
Far across the sea  
All the burdens gone  
Open the chest once more . . ._

- "Dark Chest of Wonders" by Nightwish

**Chapter 17  
Interview with a Vampire**

* * *

"Welcome back for more _DreadZone Divas: Uncensored_!" Juanita spoke up, this time by herself on the set. "Our next portion in this exciting documentary covers something that until now was considered a DreadZone Station Exclusive. We have behind the scenes footage of a crucial week in DreadZone history, where our newly-installed Exterminators must adapt to their new roles on DreadZone, and they only have the week to get in top shape before the Exterminator Tournament reaches its exciting conclusion, crowning the first Captain of the Exterminators!" 

Juanita stands up as she crows this last bit, but then sits back down and quickly regains her composure. "But before they can take on their newfound mantles of responsibility, of course, ratings come first. And this time, that means it's back for a second round of interviews! Let's catch back up with our newfound Exterminators and get a closer look . . ."

_- zip! -_

"It was . . . an unfortunate accident." White Noise spoke as he sat crosslegged in his chair, his orange prisoner's jumpsuit bothering him some.

"Could you be more specific?" An unidentified scaly character spoke up, sitting with White Noise in a booth of some kind. From a corridor, Cypress and Gleeman Vox peered in, checking on their new Exterminators.

White Noise stroked part of his mane back with a spindly black hand, standing out against his otherwise white fur. "I made some miscalculations. There was a passenger in cold sleep, 'Ice of the Black Waters' . . . I was romantically entwined with her for some time before she left the company, claiming over five years of CosmoGear's secrets for herself. I was only supposed to hack the systems enough to dump her out of cold sleep, then try to re-freeze her so quickly that it would cause a system shock to leave her with the mental capacity of a toddler . . . I didn't intend to kill her. I didn't know my miscalculation would kill all those others . . ."

"Ah, he's going to be an interesting one." Gleeman noted from the other side of the glass, confident that the Anyr couldn't hear him.

"Indeed." Cypress quipped. "He's our only criminal among the Exterminators right now. I'm almost amazed you let one of my cousins in there to interview him, rather than just ordering one of the bots to do it."

She turned to see Gleeman raise an eyebrow. "Nathaniel's a strong boy, and 'poof-ball' in there is still currently unarmed. I don't think he'd stand a chance against one of us."

"I'll remind you our ancestors were prized for their speed, not their ability in battle."

"Which is exactly why we're on this side of the glass." One of Gleeman's arms wrapped around her shoulders, before glancing at a booth across the corridor, where Ace Hardlight seemed to be shooting the breeze with his own scaly friend. "Although I'd say Damien's going to have more trouble getting Ace to shut up than anything else . . . speaking of which, where are our 'leading ladies'?"

"I told the two of them to change into their best outfits." Cypress shot back, checking her datapad. "Miss Ku'vou needs to be wearing something with more meaning to it than a black shirt, and Miss Forte needs to be wearing more, period."

"Ah, yes . . . so glad she's such a furry little thing. The fines for indecent exposure are a lot less when they can't see the nipples." Gleeman stroked his chin, when he turned to face the doorway. "There they are!"

Jigsaw walked into the corridor, wearing the ice-blue-and-black outfit that Ratchet saw her in during his slip nightmare, while Adari'a walked in wearing an immense, all-covering purple veil — an ornately edged veil, but a veil all the same, and at this, Cypress frowned.

"Off with it." She snapped, pointing at the veil.

"You told me to come in my best outfit." Adari'a remarked, the veil hiding all but her eyes and just the tip of her snout. "My 'best outfit' is not meant to be seen by men outside of my family, least of all male foreigners."

"Take it off. I'm not filming you under a tarp." Cypress replied, nonplussed.

Adari'a narrowed her eyes. "It's tribal law."

"By which, I'll remind you, you should have been beheaded already." Gleeman snapped. "Now come on; if you actually had a problem with this, you wouldn't have appeared the way you did on galactic holovision."

Adari'a hesitated, then shook her head as she removed the veil in pieces — first the hood, then jacket, then the cover hiding her lower form. Each item revealed a new portion of the harem-girl outfit, revealing an embroidered vest and two sets of briefs, with puffy, translucent sleeves, fingerless gloves for her hands and paws, and a beaded headdress, with coinage and other bits of metal dangling down in front of her hairline, just barely above her eyes, with a dangling golden feather hanging from her left ear.

"Oh, my." Cypress clapped a hand in front of her mouth, examining the outfit. "You weren't kidding . . ."

"You're right; I wasn't." Adari'a clapped a hand on Cypress, grabbing a handful of hair, pulling her in close. "And should you or your father ever insult the Tizao tribe again-!"

"Get your hands off my daughter!" Gleeman barked on instinct, and Adari'a swiftly let go. "Now, Miss Ku'vou, I realize that you're likely not very familiar with the way much of the civilized world does things, but around here, we encourage our women to act with as much impunity and freedom as anyone else. However, I'll inform you right now that further liberties with _my_ daughter will get you into significant amounts of trouble either way."

"Duly noted." The warning was returned with a scoff from Adari'a, who crossed her arms. "Impunity, my hide."

"Calm down . . . What did you do for a living to get that kind of outfit, anyway? Dancer? Street walker? Courtesan?" Cypress replied, a slight hint of derision in her words.

"Princess." The taur spat. "My father is sheikh of the Tizao, the most dominant tribe on the planet."

Gleeman smiled at this, while Cypress seemed taken aback. "Ah, it appears you two have more in common than I could have ever hoped for! Come with me, Miss Ku'vou. I'll handle your interview myself. Please, bring your veil with you if it makes you more comfortable." He turned his attention to Cypress while Adari'a opted to at least put the lower cover of her veil back on. "You can take Miss Forte's interview."

With that, Gleeman and Adari'a walked off, leaving Cypress by herself, as Jigsaw had apparently taken the hint and had gone to fix herself some coffee before heading towards one of the isolation booths. Cypress caught her heading towards it, and sauntered to catch up with the little Lombax. "Miss Forte . . . look, Miss Forte, you kind of need to slow down a bit if you expect me to talk to you."

"Just call me Jigsaw, okay?" She shot back, opening the door to the isolation booth. "None of this 'Forte' stuff. I just left that kind of stuffiness."

Cypress nodded, walking into the isolation booth, Jigsaw right behind her. "So you came here to get away from it, then?"

"No." The little Lombax shook her head, followed by another sip of coffee. "But I at least expected you people not to be complete snobs about this. I mean, the flyer mentioned getting paid to kill people. That sort of thing doesn't bring in the type of high-class dilettante you seem to think it does."

"Depends who you're trying to attract. We were expecting mercenaries, bounty hunters, assassins . . . not pint-sized violinists."

"Oh? Why not?" Jigsaw responded, narrowing her eyes. "Don't care much for my type?"

"Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the average Lombax — small, sturdy, hardy, doesn't eat a whole lot, tends to keep their living quarters very clean and self-contained . . . there's about fifty or so on them on the ship already as standard crew. I just never . . . I don't know. You just seem like you'd be entirely too cuddlesome to be vicious."

Jigsaw blinked. "I'm considered 'cuddlesome'?"

"Well come on... those ears, that tail, that fur? You're practically a mink!"

"You might want to reconsider that." Jigsaw shot back. "There's a good reason that the Galactic Rangers like using Lombaxes in their troops, and for a lot of the same reasons you like having them on this ship to do the grunt work. The added benefits of using a 'pack-mind' species come to mind . . . not the sorts of soldiers you'd want on the front line, mind you, but when you want to play a numbers game, you can't do much better."

Cypress smirked. "So you're admitting that you, by yourself, aren't likely to do a whole lot here."

She got her answer in the form of a shrug from Jigsaw, and then a smirk. "Oh, I think I'm capable of a lot more than even I've done before . . . how much more, of course, is something I'm here to find out."

"Amazing. You almost sound like you're here to actually test yourself."

Jigsaw flashed a toothy grin. "Well, you've got the perfect test subjects here, I may as well . . ."

Across the corridor, Gleeman glanced over to see Cypress and Jigsaw beginning to get along, chatting it up before he returned his attention to Adari'a, who was laying across a bench. "So, you mentioned something about a 'Survival Sense' or something like that . . ."

"Survival Directive." Adari'a corrected him. "It's a code among all of the centaur tribes on Aridia, although each tribe alters the code slightly to suit their needs. At its core, it was merely meant to be a series of guidelines to ensure that all members of the tribe worked towards the tribe's continued existance. In practice, it's an all-encompassing ironclad law dictating everything from how many children each wife should bear to what kind of diet to keep. Violating certain tenets of the law is punishable by death."

"And your case, I'm assuming, was one of those."

Adari'a chuckled. "I . . . interfered with the attentions of a jealous husband. It was my error in not knowing beforehand that the husband was one of my father's viziers. Unfortunately, such things are considered adulterous, even though I would never dream of harming the vizier in any such manner."

Gleeman blinked. "What's a vizier?"

"A type of advisor to the sheikh. Such men end up highly respected, and are often considered for the throne if a sheikh fails to produce any sons." She informed him, fingering the edging of her veil some. "But such things are no longer of my concern now. I look forward to putting what skills I have with a scimitar to good use."

"You . . . are aware that we have more advanced weapons now?" Gleeman peeped up, a look of slight concern on his face.

Adari'a shrugged. "I saw the rapier Xanatos carried. I expect your weapons are lighter?"

Gleeman buried his face in a hand as focus returned to Jigsaw's room, where the Lombax had herself seated up on a high stool. "Listen, I'm not trying to cause trouble here. I just wanted to ask what good you honestly thought it would do having all these criminals executed in front of an audience."

"It speeds up the process, it takes these criminals out of their otherwise dangerous elements, and it's good HV. How much more rationale do you need?" Cypress groaned, as though she'd grown tired of the discussion. "You want any better of an answer, take it to Nathaniel. He's much better at this."

"I'm not here to get my head spun; I'll stick to asking you. Now exactly how does it make this place safer to have them all here where they can plot with each other?" Jigsaw asked again, a more pointed tone to this question than the last one.

Cypress just rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "They're not going to work together, because the threat of getting themselves killed by each other is going to discourage that. You might get a few people still trying to work with each other, but scorpion-box theory should-"

"These fools don't know scorpion-box theory any more than they know what a scorpion even is!" Jigsaw snapped back, arms wide in disbelief. "If you honestly think that you can just play everyone off of everyone else, it's not happening. These guys are going to rip each other apart to start, sure, but there is no way you can expect twelve bloodthirsty-. No, wait, make that sixteen, I forgot to include myself and the-."

"Interview over!" Cypress growled, opening the door to the isolation booth and slamming it shut as she walked over to where her father was talking with Adari'a, flinging the door open wide, causing her father to jump in his skin.

"What do you think you're-?" He managed to get out, before Cypress had hold of him by an arm, dragging him out of the booth and closing the door behind him. Within mere moments, the sight of this was enough to get the other two interviewers out of their booths as well, leaving each exterminator to silently watch the four of them. Jigsaw moved closer to the wall nearest to White Noise's cell, and likewise, White Noise moved closer to her, as though there was more to their end of things than initially thought.

"We have a problem. This show's not even returned ratings from the pilot and these guys are already second-guessing us." Cypress hissed, glancing over at the two males standing there, also adorned with 'V' necklaces. "And honestly, father, if any of these criminals are even half as devious as those two, we're going to have trouble."

Gleeman returned quickly with a harsh reply. "Don't talk about your cousins like that! Nathaniel and Damien are absolutely brilliant, and you should treat them like they were your own brothers!"

Cypress raised an eyebrow. "They aren't even their _own_ brothers!"

"Hey, now, we've got Vox blood where it counts, all right?" Nathaniel responded, hands splayed out, before he flicked one back to go through his black hair. "And Uncle Gleeman should know that best."

Damien smirked, flicking his red plait as he looked back at Ace Hardlight. "Yeah, and on top of that, Cypress is blowin' smoke. I don't care what she thinks these guys are capable of brewing up, but we've even got the guy that put most of 'em in here. If he's as good an everything-else as he is a shot, we got nothin' to worry about."

Gleeman laughed. "Yeah, well don't count on Pinky over there to be doing any shooting. I'm amazed she even figured out how to fire her weapon in the accuracy round earlier; the girl's stuck on 13th-century warfare in a 41st-century world!"

"If she's Pinky, then there's the Brain." Cypress shot back, pointing at Jigsaw. "Did she give you that kind of mouth before, too?"

"Yeah, but at her size, she needs it." Gleeman remarked, looking back at Nathaniel. "How 'bout you, Nate? White Noise give you any trouble?

"Mister 'Silk of the Solar Winds' or whatever he insists his name is has been living in the past for ages. That said, we may want to make extra sure he's not near anything that goes beep. Apparently he's been slash-dot-dashing all over the hypernet for quite some time — this guy's as up to date on technology as half of engineering is." Nathaniel shook his head. "So let me see if I've got this straight — we've got a cowboy, a cavegirl, a geek and a spook, and we expect these four imbeciles to kill twelve of the galaxy's worst in a single season?"

"Technically we're hyping to let two of them go with pardons at the end of the season, so it's not twelve kills per se." Cypress chirped up.

"That's still ten more than I actually expect these furbags to handle." Nathaniel remarked.

Damien laughed. "You know, we don't have to do the rest of the Exterminator Tournament next week — it's obvious that Ace Hardlight over here is the only one who's actually seen battle. Just let him be captain."

"We're doing the damned tournament." Cypress barked. "These four all only managed to make the second or third places in our challenges. I'm pretty sure we were all banking on Geisha, Crosshairs and Slick to be in those booths, but right now, these four are what we've got, which means that clearly there's something they all have in common that we can use. I'm not sure what it is, but we're going to spend next week finding out while we're hyping them up to be the deadliest things on two and four feet. If we don't do this, damn Brain over there'll end up proven right when all we've got is twelve marauders trying to bust out of here instead of Maraxus."

"So we're going to make sure that if our new 'friends' in their containment suites team up on anyone, it'll be against the Exterminators?" Gleeman perked up, a small grin on his face.

"Exactly." Cypress smiled, then grinned as she got an idea. "And I've got an idea to box those scorpions in even further; We'll need to recalibrate our outline for this season, but the footage alone ought to be worth it! Here's the plan . . ."

The four Vox members came in for a huddle as they brainstormed. Meanwhile, Jigsaw found herself leaned up against the wall, her mind apparently having made an interesting link. "So, how much more to this idea is there?"

"A lot more." White Noise responded, also up against the wall. "Of course, we didn't have to talk telepathically when we were plotting it out, but-."

"Spare me the history lesson." Jigsaw cut him off. "I'm worried that thinking too much about how I'm doing this is going to make it stop working."

"Fine, fine, but when we get back out there, you should really talk to Cain. He sounds a lot like your type."

Jigsaw chucked. "Yeah, right. What am I going to have in common with that monkey, hm?"

"He just talks a lot like you is all." White Noise rolled his eyes. "Anyway, the idea was that if any of us actually made it in here, to relay the rest of the deal to you volunteers, since you've not been in the same boat as the rest of us."

"Go on . . ."

"The idea is simple — we all play it off. Nobody goes around killin' nobody else, we settle anything that doesn't happen on-screen in whatever way spills the least blood possible, and everyone here goes home happy." White Noise smirked. "Or dies happy, whatever. The point is, this place already beats the hell out of anything the prisons ever had for us. I've already spent thirty years cooped up that I ain't ever gettin' back, so as far as I'm concerned, I've already died and this is Heaven!"

Jigsaw chortled. "If this were Heaven, you wouldn't be wearing prison pajamas."

"By the same token, you'd be over here making sure all my plumbing was in the same working order it was when they tossed me in here, so knock it off. Heaven's got limits." White Noise snapped, combing through his wrist-tufts. "You still get me?"

"I get you, I get you." Jigsaw answered, as Cypress opened the door to her Isolation booth. "You four done talking?"

"Most certainly are." Cypress grinned. "And you can pat yourself on the back; you've just caused us to make the first big change to our master plan."

"The hell did I do?" Jigsaw yipped as Cypress grabbed hold of her by a wrist, bringing her out of the isolation booth and into the corridor, directing her to the table they walked past when they first came in here.

"Everyone, have a seat at the table; we'll be explaining the rest of the game to you shortly." Gleeman chimed, a smile on his face that really shouldn't have been there. "And of course, once you know the rules, we can get down to the killing and all that, aye?"

"So soon? I thought we had to wait for the show!" Ace shot back, getting a quick laugh out of everyone else.

"Not so fast." Cypress smirked. "Before anybody shoots off at anyone else, not including the shots at Br- er, Jigsaw's back . . . we've got to lay down some ground rules."

Cypress smiled as a screen came up behind her, with headshots of each of the other twelve contestants. "You already know who these people are — they're your cannon fodder, and we expect you to kill enough of them over the course of this season that we can at least boast a fast enough turnover rate to justify our government sponsorship. What you don't know is that we've decided to assign them all to teams, with you four each spearheading your own personal Exterminator Squad."

"Question." Adari'a piped up. "Er . . . these squads, are they anything like slaves?"

"No, no . . . well, a little." Cypress conceded. "You're be captain of your own personal squad, with one of our squadmates being your second-in-command, or 'lieutenant', if you prefer. Your lieutenants will be able to give orders to the other two squad members you'll pick up, so long as his orders do not supercede your own. You'll be responsible for keeping your lieutenants in line, and hopefully get them to help you keep the other two in line as well, but for all intents and purposes, you are free to consider your lieutenants as assistants, gophers, fluffers . . . I don't particularly care, but just keep in mind you're on camera."

Adari'a blinked, leaning over to Ace, trying to whisper. "What's a fl-?"

"Later." Ace hissed back.

"In addition to your squads, as Exterminators, you will also from time to time be working as your own squad, which is where part two of our Exterminator Tournament comes in." Cypress grinned. "Since there would be almost no point in having a 'lieutenant exterminator', the four of you will be competing for the ranks of second-class Exterminator, first-class Exterminator, and Exterminator Captain. And I assure you all now, if you think the new armor and weapons you'll be receiving for just being Exterminators is rewarding, wait until you all see what sorts of benefits come with being Captain!"

Gleeman and Damien both had smiles on their faces as they noticed the first machinations of greed playing off in their new Exterminator's eyes, each one glancing at the other with thin eyes and even thinner lips pressed into smirks. White Noise was the first to break, chucking and speaking up. "So... when do we get to pick our new lieutenants?"

"Oh, that's the beauty of it — we've already done it for you." Nathaniel chuckled. "We decided that since a few of you have already started hitting it off with your new 'buddies', the fairest way to portion things would be to go ahead and assign you each a first-placer from the previous episode. Once you head back to your Containment Suites, you'll be meeting up with your new lieutenant, and training with them for the next week as you'll be putting both yourself and your new lieutenant to the test in our Tournament."

Gleeman smiled, glancing at Adari'a. "To counteract your 'gun-shyness', Miss Ku'vou, I've personally assigned you to our top sniper, Charity. I assure you, if she can't get you to fire a pistol properly, nobody will."

Nathaniel chuckled. "Silk, I've picked out Aeris for you. Don't worry, he'll have his wings grown back by the time the Tournament continues, but I'm sure that between the two of you, you can find a good pace. And while you're at it, I hear he's got this nifty little feather-tossing technique that should fit right in with your skill set."

Damien laughed a little harder, wrapping an arm around Ace. "Since I know you two have some serious history, I'm giving you Geisha. Between those murder-eyes of his and your blaster, you two should be unstoppable — that is, of course, if you two can even manage to get along, given that it was your peachy behind that put him behind bars in the first place."

Jigsaw turned her eyes to Cypress, who was neither laughing or smiling as she looked back. "That leaves Slick. I hope you have a better reason than 'because he's also a Lombax'."

"Of course I do." Cypress smirked, starting to laugh as well but stifling herself with a hand. "After that striptease you two gave during the race, I can already tell you two should have some decent chemistry to help your teamwork along. After all, you're not here just to kill a few criminals . . . this is still a show, and we damn well need some spice in there!"


	19. Say Hello to Slick

_Jump in the cockpit and start up the engine  
Remove all the wheelblocks, there's no time to waste  
Gathering speed as we head down the runway  
Gotta get airborne before it's too late . . ._

- "Aces High" by Iron Maiden

**Chapter 18  
Say Hello to Slick**

* * *

_- beep! Sunday, 11:49 PM - _

The cameras cut over to White Noise entering through the doorway of his new containment suite, taking a look around at the open-air, metallic, slightly transparent zone. "Damn . . ." he muttered to himself, walking towards the central junction of these platforms. "Strangest idea of a prison I ever saw. Looks nice though."

"You must be the old man." A voice hissed, seething under a thin veneer of decorum. White Noise turned to find Aeris sitting in a swiveling chair near a large console, his damaged wings held tightly against his body. "Ordinarily, I would consider this blasphemy that I serve you, and not the other way around."

"Yeah?" White Noise narrowed his eyes, dropping his duffel where he stood, before dropping to all fours and galloping at Aeris, pouncing on him and wrapping his hands around Aeris's throat, staring into the Celeste's one good eye. "Listen here, bub. You're taking orders from me whether you like 'em or not, and if you ever call me 'old man' again, I'm gonna take steps to make sure you don't become one yourself, am I clear?"

Just then, the scene cut over to a hissing Geisha, his eyes and forehead concealed by a polished white mask with the eyeholes covered with blue lenses. Ace had a hold of two of the four Kendril's arms, where apparently the same struggle was occurring in his suite as well. "You're going to have to do a little more than win some inane race to earn my respect, you overbearing, pompous excuse for a mercenary!"

"Nope." Ace smirked, before hiking up a knee and tossing the Kendril three meters back into the closed door. "I'm pretty sure at this point it's just plain 'mercenary'."

Geisha hissed, and his snake-headed dreadlocks joined in with his hiss once again. "That doesn't justify this... you know I could kill you where you stand, given the chance."

"And you'd be dead real soon afterwards if you tried." Ace smirked. "Face it, Geisha, your cooperation with me directly helps you live longer. So whenever you're done throwing your tantrum, let me know."

The cameras cut again over to Adari'a's suite, where Charity and the centaur seemed to forego the pleasantries of conversation in favor of circling each other, sizing the other up, claws and spindly legs clicking against the hardened plastic of the floor as they examined each other wordlessly, carefully, waiting for the other to make a move.

After a tense moment, they closed in their circling, standing to face each other, heads turned, shoulder to shoulder, unable to turn any closer without running into the other, and at this, Charity smirked. "So . . . I hear that you're looking to get your head out of the sand and into the Carbonox."

"I hear you're looking to make your prison sentence as painless as possible." Adari'a remarked, a similar look on her face. "I believe we can accomplish both our goals without further trouble, don't you?"

"Oh, most certainly. This way . . ." Charity smiled, walking along, Adari'a following at a good clip. "So nice to have a client I can see eye to eye with for a change."

From here, the camera makes one last cut to Jigsaw's containment suite, where she had just arrived with her duffel and violin case, glancing around. "Slick?" She called out, looking around the containment suite, walking to the central platform. "Sli-i-ick? Where are you?"

"Right here, baby!" Slick descended from the ceiling, arms wide, causing Jigsaw to shriek and trip, falling to the floor, leaving her to look up at the black Lombax. "Damn, girl, I figured a real Exterminator would have been able to handle that."

"Yeah? Well apparently real Exterminators have weak bladders." Jigsaw muttered, standing up and brushing herself off. "How'd you get up there, anyway?"

"Oh... just a quick shot up, nothing big, just felt like coming in with a bang." Slick grinned as he let his grapples come loose, and landed on his feet. "After all, when they said I was going to have to put up with you, I figured making sure that you didn't try to, you know, take advantage of me over our little skirmish earlier . . ."

Jigsaw scoffed. "Me, taking advantage of you? That's rich."

"Well come on, I have skills you don't, I have experience that you don't . . ." Slick stepped a little closer, tiptoeing along. "And I know I've got the body you don't!"

"You say that like I want the body." Jigsaw responded, before picking up her luggage and heading down one of the pathways, towards an armory garage. "Well, if they dumped you in here, I wonder if they had the foresight to leave some toys to practice with . . ."

"They did." Slick walked along with her, hopping behind the counter of the garage. "I already spotted one of them earlier. See?"

Jigsaw blinked, then stood there agape as Slick placed a large electric guitar on the counter. The body seemed to resemble an axe head, while the rest of it looked to be a highly polished, streamlined guitar, complete with all the typical bells and whistles. She walked over to it, before noticing a note tucked under the strings on the fretboard, pulling it out and opening it up. "Hmm . . . 'The first of many benefits', eh?"

"Damn well looks like it." Slick whistled. "This one's a beauty, too. I've never seen a guitar built this solid." He inspected it a little longer, before plucking at the chords with a wide grin on his face, but Jigsaw slapped his hand away.

"We don't even know what that thing does yet!" She scolded him.

"I can take a guess. I already see setups for autochords and size adjustments, the neck's built for stability as well as comfort, and that edge -ow!- is sharp to the touch. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've picked up a weapon that can also be played as a bonus." Slick smiled. "I could take it off your hands if you like."

"No way!" Jigsaw reached out for it, and Slick laughed as he grabbed hold of it, starting to make adjustments to it.

Slick began to tune the instrument once he had the strap adjusted, and then snorted at her. "Do you even know how to play one of these?"

"Well, no . . ." She sighed, sitting on the counter. "But you don't either. I mean, hell, if you- . . ."

Slick began to play, and suddenly Jigsaw seemed frozen in place, watching as the criminal's fingers danced along the fretboard, starting to make music. She grinned, starting to sing as she recognized the tune. "_Run . . . live to fly . . . fly to live . . . do or die . . .!_"

"_Won't you run . . . live to fly . . . fly to live . . . Aces high!_" Slick joined in with her, singing along as he played, grinning at her. "So glad to see that you've got more in you than a bunch of orchestral crap."

She chuckled. "Oh, I've got a healthy appreciation for the 'harder' music . . . but that's still my instrument."

She noticed a glint in his eyes as he spoke. "Then I better teach you how to play it right, shouldn't I?"

_- beep! Monday, 9:57 AM - _

The camera switched to make clear the gap in time, cutting over to Slick and Jigsaw over in a training area, each with a pair of dual vipers between them as they started to roll and strafe, aiming at holograms as they shuttled from behind one embankment to the next.

"Keep your arms out, and steady. It helps minimize recoil!" Slick called out, shouting orders. He watched Jigsaw flit back and forth, moving effortlessly, but only firing once or twice each run. "You can't let the recoil finish before you fire again! You have to keep shooting constantly when you're up!"

"I'm trying to save ammo here!" She cried back, huddling herself against her current embankment.

Slick growled, leaping across, firing a barrage of shots before he hit the ground and tumbled to reach her position. "What's more important, your ammo or your head? We're dealing with suppressive fire here!"

They heard the 'firing' of the holograms slow down as they remained hidden behind the embankment, and Slick smirked. "Now you can try to save your ammo. The more precise you are, the less bullets it'll take. Try to keep a low profile so they won't have as much to fire back at."

Jigsaw nodded, then sat up to fire, shrieking and slumping back down almost immediately, holding her right ear. Slick groaned, then leaned over to check the small trickle of blood coming from the wound site, before firing from the side of the embankment to take care of the simulation himself.

_- beep! Tuesday, 2:44 PM - _

Jigsaw blinked, glancing around as Slick and herself were walking along what appeared to be a large corridor lined with posters on the walls and various establishments throughout the area. "Are we supposed to be out here?"

"It's considered public, isn't it?" Slick remarked, leading her along.

"Well, yeah . . ." Jigsaw glanced around, noticing a pair of workers installing a water fountain. "But I thought you were supposed to be 'limited' in your range."

Slick rolled his eyes, stopping short. "I don't know what they told you, but when they grabbed my keister and told me I was playing lieutenant to you, they said that we took orders and discipline from you. So as long as I'm sticking around with you, it's cool."

"I'm going to have to ask Cypress about that . . ." Jigsaw muttered to herself, but continued walking on with Slick. "So what are we looking for, anyway?"

"An audience. The fastest way to get you playing at a halfway decent level is to get you in front of a crowd. Boosts your confidence and all that." He replied, stopping in front of what looked to be a construction site in the corridor.

Jigsaw glanced around the site as she slipped the guitar in front of her. "You really think the extra pressure is going to help me master this 'axe faster?"

"Trust me." Slick glances out at the workers again, noting that some of them are watching the two. "Go on."

She glances out, a nervous look on her face as her fingers walk across the strings, eking out the first few chords until she calmed down, getting into the rhythm as she went on, the chords echoing out faster, and soon the workers began to move faster, eager to walk past, the music energizing them and spurring them on.

At some point in this, Cypress walked past, blinking as she noticed how busy her crew had suddenly become. Although Jigsaw and Slick couldn't hear the conversation Cypress started up with one of the foremen, they knew she was talking about the two of them, and it made her smile.

_- beep! Wednesday, 10:36 AM - _

"You okay?" Slick asked, his ears perking up as they walked across the gravel-floored courtyard. "You don't look like you slept well."

Jigsaw shook her head clear, although there was still this tired look in her eyes. "I'm fine. Now come on, time for me to do the teaching for a change. We've got to get you to stop barking orders . . ."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Slick chuckled, trying to keep his amusement under his breath. "After all, you're the one who needed the weapons training, not me. Besides that, you're tired as hell. I don't know what you think you'll be teaching like this . . ."

"Just a test to see how well you can control yourself; I thumbed through your dossier on this one; you know the fellow we're about to see. Check your temper for a change and I think things will go just fine."

Slick blinked, glancing around; aside from Ace Hardlight wrestling Geisha over in a corner, he didn't see anything else of much note. "Who the hell did you dreg up? Crosshairs? Zodiac?"

"Nope." Jigsaw grinned, pointing over to a human brunette standing at the other end of the courtyard. "Apparently DreadZone decided to hire a chaplain. Say hello to your 'old pal', the Reverend Theodore Gr-"

"Preacher!" Slick hissed, and Jigsaw cast a glare at him. "I know, I know, but damn it, girl, you don't know how much grief he gave me back in Kazan! You can't trust me around him!"

"I'm going to have to, now won't I?" She smirked, taking hold of him by an arm, dragging him over. "Good morning, Chaplain Grey!"

"Good morning, child . . . I see you brought me an old friend, too!" Theo smirked, looking down at Slick. "From the looks of that last show, he's got some confessing to do as well."

"Back off, preacher, or I'll-!"

"Ahem . . ." Jigsaw coughed, trying to make it clear for Slick to behave.

"Sorry to disappoint, preacher, but she jumped out on her own, honest." Slick altered his retort instead, trying to remain civil.

Theo raised an eyebrow. "Either way, I don't want to see it happening again. I'm sure the girl deserves better treatment."

"Understood, preacher." Slick responded, scratching the back of his neck, as though he was still uncomfortable. Jigsaw beamed, but stopped smiling when she noticed the preacher taking a step away from her.

She blinked, confused. "Is something wrong, Reverend?"

The reverend took another step back, clutching his book to his chest. "There's something I don't like about you . . ."

"What'd I tell you? I swear, you'd think he had it in for anyone that even touches me... come on, Jigsaw." Slick rolled his eyes, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Let's get out of here. I've wasted enough time with this fool already."

_- beep! Thursday, 5:21 PM - _

Chords of electric buzz and trill echoed through the corridors, this time getting the attention of both Nathaniel and Damien halfway down the hallway. Thirty seconds later, both of them had run down to the worker's site, with fiery looks on their faces.

"Do you know how loud you were playing a few minutes ago?" Nathaniel hissed, slightly irritated.

Jigsaw chuckled. "No, but if you hum a few bars I'll wing it . . . woah, woah! Okay, bad joke . .. we'll go a little lighter, but seriously, the builders like it."

"I'm not paid to care if they like your music." Nathaniel remarked.

"No, but they're paid to work by the hour — and from what I've heard, they've actually been getting more work done when I'm out here practicing than when I'm not." She grinned. "I'm saving you money and giving them a preview to boot."

Nathaniel glanced at the construction site, then leaned over to take a look inside, before apparently being satisfied with this rationale and walking on back to where he'd come from. Damien stayed behind, however, casting furtive glances.

"Something wrong?" Slick spoke up, currently leaned against the wall.

Damien shrugged, then smirked. "Smoke on the Water?"

Jigsaw grinned, then fired off a quick series of bars, much to Damien's delight, before he walked off as well. Jigsaw and Slick shared a smile between them, before blinking as they noticed a pair of blurs scaling over where the construction work spread out into the corridor. "What was that?"

She turned to see Charity trying to keep up a fast trot, with Adari'a in front of her. "You see that? Keep up that kind of speed and you'll start landing on the ceiling!"

"Amazing, she actually considers jogging practice." Slick noted with a slight level of amusement, watching the two run out of sight.

_- beep! Friday, 1:17 PM - _

"Move it! Move it!" Jigsaw barked out as they ran the suppressive fire simulation one more time, this time ordering Slick across to get him to the embankment across from her, both of them with viper pistols up and cocked for further action.

The two glanced at each other, nodding, before moving in synchrony, firing off at the holograms, pressing forward. The holograms fell easily, quickly, as they pressed onward, quickly decimating the 'army' of holograms. Slick smirked as the simulation powered down, glancing over at Jigsaw. "Nice work, 'captain'. You've really taken to that pistol well."

"I just hope it translates over into whatever the next challenge in the tournament is." Jigsaw remarked, spinning the pistol on her finger. "Unfortunately, the closest thing I seem to have to a clue is that I noticed the Vox Brothers wearing shin guards when they came down to complain about the noise yesterday."

"Shin guards don't mean a whole lot, though." Slick shrugged, confused. "Could just as easily have been one of half a dozen games."

She nodded, walking out of the training area, with Slick close behind. "That's why I'm not inclined to think that it's related to the tournament. But I do know well enough to know not to take chances. Between Ace, Adari'a, and Silk of — bleh, 'White Noise' is a little easier to say anyway — either way, between those three, we'll still have our work cut out for us."

"Hope it's nothing too tricky — well, tricky for us, at least." Slick smirked. "I'd hate to think that they could make a challenge we couldn't handle."

"Well, don't get too fussed up. Once this Tournament's finished, we'll be picking apart the rest of the twelve of you, and then we'll actually start risking necks.

Slick blinked. "Twelve? Aren't you one off?"

Jigsaw shook her head. "No, no, I'm sure it's twelve. You and the other lieutenants make four, then Zodiac, the two robots, London, Poison, Cain . . . Oh, and Xanatos, even though technically he's a volunteer . . . Hm, you're right."

Slick nodded, leaning up against the garage counter. "That's eleven. One's missing."

"Criminals don't go 'missing', Slick. Certainly not a criminal on Death Row." Jigsaw shook her head. "I remember seeing a small collage Cypress showed us before with all twelve . . . I think it was a redhead of some kind."

"Sure you didn't mix this redhead up with Poison?" Slick raised an eyebrow.

"Don't know . . . It'll become clear soon enough, anyway." Jigsaw smirked. "In the meantime, ready to do another simulation run?"

_- beep! Saturday, 7:53 AM. Get ready for DreadZone tomorrow. - _

"Good morning, Exterminators!" Gleeman Vox boomed, and there was a groan as Jigsaw opened the door to the personal quarters of her suite, glancing out at Vox's visage at the mission console. "I hope you've put this week to good use, and hopefully by now you've managed to get those rowdy criminals under your control as well!"

Jigsaw watched with half-open eyes as she walked forwards, her fur the same color as it always was, but she looked paler somehow, without even the energy to perk her ears up to normal. Still, she kept her eyes steady on the screen.

"You'll all be competing in tomorrow's festivities, while the rest of our contestants will merely have to remain content watching it from their consoles. As an added treat, however . . . Some of you might recall going past a little 'construction site' in our public zones. Thanks to a certain amount of 'interference' on your parts, I am now proud to announce the grand opening of Club Dread, a week ahead of schedule no less! We invite you and your new partners to come by later tonight. Doors open at 7:30, so if you know what's good for you . . . don't be late."

With that, the transmission terminated, leaving Jigsaw standing there, still feeling slightly weak. Fortunately, the door of her containment suite opened, letting Slick in. "Good, you're up too. I just had the strangest sense of- . . . damn, girl, what's wrong with you?"

"I . . . I don't know . . ." She managed to utter out, before falling forward, with Slick rushing up to catch her.

He propped her up, getting her to lean on his shoulder. "You look sick. That's not a good sign for tomorrow."

"T-tomorrow . . . oh, no . . ." She spoke, before coughing up, looking like she was trying to dry-heave. Slick put a hand over her mouth.

"No way, we can't have this . . . you have to win tomorrow, we've been training too hard not to . . ." He shook his head, helping her along. "We need to get you back in bed and find some nanotech, fast."

"Slick . . ." She spoke, still coughing a bit. "Stay with me?"

He started dragging her along. "Not now, I need to get that nanotech first."

"No . . . bed . . ." She managed out again, glancing over at him.

Slick blinked. "As much as I've longed to hear those words, you're in no condition for that sort of thing. I don't do anything or anybody half-assed."

She coughed again, shaking her head. "Just stay a little . . ."

"Damn it . . . All right, I'll help you get back to sleep, but right after that I'm rushing for the nano, you got it?" He shot back, and then saw her nod. "I swear, I've never had to deal with a woman like this . . ."


	20. Ready to Rock and Rumble

_Keep pushin' for the fortune and fame  
You know it's, it's all a gamble  
When it's just a game  
You treat it like a capital crime  
Everybody' doin' their time . . ._

- "Paradise City" by Guns N' Roses

**Chapter 19  
Ready to Rock and Rumble**

* * *

Cypress glanced around the corridors, standing at the entrance to Club Dread. She needed to make sure that all of the Exterminators showed up tonight — With all of the other prisoners on lockdown, she needed at least her 'star' players here to help drum up publicity. Besides that, it made more sense to tell it to their faces than have to catch up with them otherwise. 

Adari'a and Charity had already arrived — and thankfully, this time they'd convinced her to leave the hood portion of her veil in her suite — but that was hardly enough. She needed White Noise. She needed Ace. She needed-.

"There you are!" Cypress smiled as she noticed the two Lombaxes making their way down the corridor, and she made a mental note to pat herself on the back for supplying Slick with some proper clothes. This wasn't anything close to a black-tie affair, but anything that didn't resemble prison wear was fine by her. "We've been expecting you!"

Jigsaw smirked, currently looking a whole lot healthier than she'd been all week, and Slick didn't look half-bad himself. "See? Told you I'd be able to handle tonight!"

"I guess sleep really does help you." Slick remarked, stroking his neck absentmindedly. "Sorry about using up some of the nanotech I brought for you, by the way . . . don't know what came over me."

"It's fine. You need it as much as I do, after all." With this, she turned her head back towards Cypress. "They haven't started without us, have they?"

"I'm still out here, aren't I?" Cypress remarked. "Now get in there and make yourselves comfortable. You won't have another opportunity like this one for a long time!"

The two took the hint, walking through the entrance, where they stopped short. The place was dark but with lighting snaking across the floor and tables, along the walls, and up to an ample stage setup. The wait staff — mostly Lombaxes for whatever reason, although there were the fair share of robots and greenies among them as well — looked as friendly and genial as any, despite their dark attire accented with metal jewelry, spiked collars, and the generously low-cut tank tops a few of the waitresses had taken to wearing instead. Slick grinned, looking almost too at home in these surroundings, but Jigsaw had a look in her eyes reserved for deer in the headlights.

"Damn . . . Sweet setup, eh, Jigsaw?" Slick spoke, grinning ear to ear. "Jigsaw?"

"Too many people . . ." She managed to get out, still looking slightly catatonic. "So much emotion . . ."

"Er . . . right. Come on, captain; you're not supposed to be talking like that until at least the second drink." He glanced over at the waitress at the entrance. "Get us a booth, bring me rum, and make sure you bring my lady here something stiff enough to wake the dead."

The waitress nodded, leading them off to a booth before departing quickly herself. Jigsaw held her head for a moment, before getting used to the apparent sensory overload. Slick leaned in a bit, still somewhat concerned, before backing off quickly once she started to look healthier.

"Damn, girl, I hope you're just having a small hiccup from being sick earlier. Then again, better to get it out now than in the arena, eh?" Slick remarked, trying to cheer his captain up, and only receiving a small smile for his trouble.

Jigsaw then glanced over to where Adari'a and Charity were sitting, although a more appropriate term would've been 'laying', as the two had propped themselves up on an arrangement of pillows and ledges near the staging, rather than the typical booth setup that wouldn't have accommodated their collective bulks. "Hm . . . Any complaints to dining with the 'enemy'?"

"I think we can save that for another night. After all, it's not the best idea to try something like that before a big match; as much risk of letting them in on your secrets as you are of learning theirs. If it were just myself, I'd be able to handle it. You in your current state . . . not so much."

She nodded, slightly resigning herself as she glanced over the menu. The drinks Slick ordered arrived not too long after, and after a small moment of hesitation, she found her eyes flying wide after taking a sip of hers, blinking in disbelief and flagging over a waitress. "What's in this?"

"Mixed drink; they've not named that one yet. One part vodka, three parts guarana, an orange wedge and a bag of some sort of black tea. I want to say it's 'Earl Grey', but you'd have to ask the kitchen to be sure of that."

"Huh . . . thanks. I'll have to remember that." She nodded to the waitress. Just then, the video paused, cutting over to where Jigsaw, Cypress, and Adari'a were sitting over in their blue commentary room.

"You see that?" Jigsaw pointed at an off-camera screen. "THAT is where I picked up my taste for the Blood Tea!"

"With the transformation in your face like that, no wonder they decided to call that drink the 'Zombie Lombax' . . ." Cypress chuckled, glancing down.

The commentary gave way to the tape again, picking up where we left off. Jigsaw looked up from her drink, glanced back at the waitress, then grinned at Slick once the girl was far enough away. "The taste of this reminds me of you from earlier today."

Slick nodded, then blinked. "But we didn't even do anything. You just wanted to be held until you nodded off again . . . at least, that's what I remember happening . . ." This only picked up a shrug from Jigsaw, which caused Slick to shrug as well, chuckling some. "Guessing your nose is a little stronger than mine."

"Something like that." She smirked, taking another sip. "I get the feeling like I should be asking something about you."

"Hm?" Slick raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "Not sure how to put it . . . like I should actually bother to get to know you. We've been practicing together all week and it feels like I know more about your song sheets than I do about how you ended up here."

He chuckled, then shook his head. "It's a longer story than I usually have time to tell."

"Give me the abridged version, then. And try not to turn my stomach with it, if you don't mind."

One chortle followed by a smirk and a scooting closer to her seat later, and he looked ready. "I'm not really a bad man, Miss Forte. I've never killed anyone. I've never held a planet or a satellite hostage with some kind of 'death ray'. I know how to treat a lady. I stick to honest work. It's just that my line of honest work wasn't the kind the law liked was all."

"Come on, you don't end up on death row by being a gentleman." Jigsaw remarked, not completely buying it.

"Fair enough, but then again, passing the right drug into the wrong territory carries some stiff penalties — very stiff penalties, in fact. Of course, by the time they tracked me down, my position at the top accrued enough of those penalties to give me the king of them all. But it made sense, in a twisted way; I'd been living by the pretty powders and petals for years; I should've expected dying by them as well." He shrugged. "I was barely pushing seven years old, when-"

A loud chord ripped through the air, giving Slick pause as he turned to glare at the robot playing a guitar of his own onstage, sending a minor shockwave of noise that silenced the room, before pointing to the entrance.

"Behold, the king!" A raspy voice spoke, hissing with delight. A quick pan of the camera revealed Geisha standing there, dressed in what would likely be mistaken as a toga of some kind, his arms splayed out as a handsomely dressed Ace Hardlight walked inside, smug superiority written all over his face. "After tomorrow, the king of kings!"

"And to think I'd never seen arrogance personified . . ." Jigsaw cast a glance over to Ace, watching him.

Ace walked with a sure step, Geisha right behind him, his snake heads darting around, hissing, writhing, coiling up, and strangely, spitting with displeasure at each Lombax he crossed, as though something about them stirred other things in him. This path wound through a few tables as the robot played on, Ace enjoying this momentary control he seemed to have over the entire room, everyone watching him and his lieutenant as he stopped by Adari'a's table. "Miss Ku'vou."

"Hardlight." She responded, glancing at him with a steady glare.

"I certainly hope you won't have any hard feelings after tomorrow; after all, from what I heard from Vox, the bookers are considering you the longshot."

Adari'a growled, muttering something in what sounded to be her native tongue, punctuated by a random hissing of the word 'Hardlight' in there twice before she moved to backhand him, only to have her wrist intercepted by Geisha.

"Play nice, pussy . . ." Geisha chided her. "After all, I hear that tongue of yours can you out of trouble as well as it got you into it."

Adaria's intended backhand quickly morphed into a forehand, slapping Geisha upside and sending his facemask flying clear across the room, hitting the wall. Geisha hissed loudly, clenching his eyes shut, his hairs all striking out as once, combing and searching for sight. Adari'a scoffed, glancing towards a shocked Ace. "I'm not that kind of cat!"

"Where's my mask?" Geisha hissed, enraged, eyes still clenched shut. "Get that mask back!"

"Looking for this, tall-dark-and-scaly?" Slick stood up on the benching of his booth, holding the white mask up. "Cause I have half a mind to snap it right here!"

Geisha staggered towards him, half-blind, having to depend on his hair to keep himself aware of the tables he was bumping into and the customers he was knocking down. "Now, now, pet, this isn't the place for your games. Give back the mask and no one gets turned into granite tonight."

"No way. Without this mask you'll have to go back to your quarters. Since I'm not keen on being in the same room with you in the first place, I figure playing keep-away is my best shot at it." Slick narrowed his eyes.

"Remember what the reverend said before we left Kazan, pet . . . _play nice_ . . ." Geisha growled out the last bit, moving closer to the table, and Slick dropped his facade, looking honestly scared for a moment.

Almost instantly, Slick regained his nerve. "Always bringing up preacher, ain't you? Well there ain't no preacher here this time. You want a piece of me?"

"Just a piece? How about all of you!" Geisha growled, using his lower arms to support his weight on the table while the upper ones took hold of Slick's neck on either side. "You know what? It'd be worth dying to kill you right now. You know . . . give all these pets a taste of what's to come, eh?"

"Excuse me . . ." Jigsaw butted in, slightly unnerved.

She was answered with a hiss from Geisha, before he returned his attention to Slick. "Now, pet, I'll give you to the count of three to put my mask back on my face, or else I won't be responsible for who else dies besides you tonight, got it?"

"Take your fucking mask." A quick fumble, and before Geisha even started to count, his eyes were covered by the mask again, with Slick fumbling to get it past his hairs. "I swear, Geisha, you've got no self-contr- GAH!"

Jigsaw shot up, and Geisha found himself on the floor instantly, hitting it hard as she stood there, hands splayed out, almost amazed that she shoved him so hard. She glanced back over at Slick. "You all right?"

Pain clenched his fist as Slick shook his head. "Snake head bit me . . . that'll sting all night." It took a moment before the next thought hit him. "Where'd you get those muscles, anyway? I've never been able to even make him budge."

"Must've been off balance, I guess . . ." She blinked, looking at her own hands.

"The hell is going on here?" A new voice spoke up, belonging to White Noise as he and Aeris entered the establishment, followed soon after by all four of the Vox family. "I knew I was coming to the party late, but don't tell me I missed the fireworks already!"

"Don't worry, we'll be setting off the second wave of them tonight." Nathaniel remarked, casting a glare at the scuffle. Geisha quickly scrambled to his feet, immediately starting to bow, before he heard Nathaniel continue, "Geisha, return to your quarters immediately. Ace will rejoin you following my cousin's announcement."

"What?" Ace snarled, taken aback.

Gleeman glared at Ace. "We could see what happened from the outside. You clearly failed to keep your lieutenant under control in a restaurant — I don't know how you plan to keep control of him on the field if you couldn't even manage this."

"Take her too, then, she knocked off the mask in the first place!" Ace retorted. "And those two rats as well, while you're at it!"

Jigsaw rolled her eyes "I'm sure the two dozen other 'rats' in the room would like a word with you about what you choose to call other sophonts . . ."

"Your lieutenant was the only one threatening lethal force, Ace. I've heard enough — I want you and your walking deathtrap out of here. You'll be leaving with him once we're through with what we asked you all here for in the first place." Gleeman snapped, before giving his daughter a gentle push forward.

"We were meant to show up for something important?" Jigsaw blinked, sitting back down.

"Certainly." The next few strides put Cypress near the stage, having stepped on Geisha's stomach on her way over there, before she took hold of the microphone. "Before I came up here, I was going to give a opening speech commending our new Exterminators for their assistance and the stellar example they were setting for the rest of our contestants . . . but of course, I think the point of such a speech right now would be lost."

A quick chuckle ran through the crowd, although Ace glared at her as he went over to help Geisha to his feet. Cypress wasn't fased enough to stop, however. "But all that aside, I hope everyone here is enjoying Club Dread to its fullest potential; over the coming seasons, we hope this becomes one of the premier spots on DreadZone Station, and an incentive to make our contestants behave that much better. Speaking of which, I know that at least four of you in here are looking forward to tommorow's trials . . ." She paused, noting the quiet smiles and smirks on the faces of her Exterminators, " . . . but what you're not looking forward to is the spanner we've thrown into the works."

"Here it comes!" Slick noted.

"What's the worst they could do, add a mother Tyrannhoid in there?" Jigsaw shrugged, taking another sip.

Cypress flashed a large grin, and an evil one at that. "The spanner's name is Daisy."

Jigsaw gulped, eyes going wide as she put her drink back down. Slick blinked, eyes wide in disbelief. "As in Archanis? 'Dark Arch' Archanis?"

"You can't toss her in here!" Charity retorted. "I heard the last time she got crossed, she turned a Wayne into a Jane!"

"She's put antlers on a Blargian!" A bystander shouted out, encouraging more to speak up.

"She made a dragon out of merging a Zillan with a Kendril!"

"Forget the dragon, have you seen that tail of hers? That's the first time I'd seen Captain Quark throw up since-!"

Cypress roared, cutting off the chatter, before regaining her composure and speaking again. "Yes, yes, we all know she's a mad scientist, and a fairly high-profile one at that. You don't need to do her bragging for her."

"Brag nothing, I'm just pissed off that the book-brain gets all the press." Aeris whispered over to White Noise. "Everyone loves a smart criminal, right up until they're stupid enough to get caught."

White Noise rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest. Being on the cover of 'Evil Genius Monthly' does that to people."

"But yes, Miss Archanis will be participating in tomorrow's events, as her cold sleep chamber was damaged in transit and she did not wake up in time to participate in the previous portion of the Exterminator Tournament. To make up for this, we have assigned her Spyro as a probationary lieutenant, and she will be participating in tomorrow's games for a chance to take one of your positions."

"That's not fair!" Jigsaw growled, a fist pounding the table.

"Keep in mind, Daisy won't become an exterminator unless she becomes either first-class or Captain of the Exterminators. Consider it an incentive to keep friends close and enemies closer." Cypress smirked. "In the event that Daisy becomes an Exterminator, the first Exterminator eliminated from the tournament and their lieutenant will find themselves stripped of rank and will re-enter the pool of contestants to be distributed among the teams later. And as I know all of you have taken to your new 'advantages' as Exterminators, or at the very least, the advantages to serving as a lieutenant for one . . . you won't be keen on letting that happen."

"They're playing us off." Charity hissed over to Adari'a. "They want us to start trying to selfishly save ourselves, rather than merely working together to eliminate 'Daisy' first."

"Great, like we didn't already have enough problems as is . . ." Slick remarked to Jigsaw. "So much for this being a low-stress challenge."

"I hope you're all ready for tomorrow. I know I'll be." Cypress grinned, noticing the murmuring among the crowd and the machinations in her contestant's heads. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, everyone."

"Except you two." Damien hissed, pulling Ace and Geisha up. "Come on, party's over."

Jigsaw and Slick watched with minor satisfaction on their faces as they saw the Exterminator and his wayward lieutenant carted off. The round of applause once they were both out the door made it clear they weren't the only ones happy to see them go, either.


	21. Life's a Pitch

_Times are gone for honest men  
And sometimes far too long for snakes  
In my shoes, a walking sleep  
And my youth I pray to keep  
Heaven send Hell away  
No one sings like you anymore . . ._

- "Black Hole Sun", by Soundgarden

**Chapter 20  
Life's a Pitch**

* * *

"It's time again, for another kick-up-your-heels hellacious episode of DreadZone!" Dallas spoke with the largest grin on his face in ages, attempting to actually put his feet up on the announcer's desk, and falling flat on his ass. 

Cypress was ready and waiting to pick up where he left off, however. "Last week, we selected our top contestants to be our Exterminators, but they're not out of the woods yet! Last night, our budding executioners found out that they would have to fight to keep from losing one of their coveted positions to convicted felon Daisy Archanis, a.k.a. 'the Dark Arch', who will also be competing in tonight's event."

"Oh, and don't forget about the footage we picked up from last night as well!" Dallas raised a finger high, as the screen cut over to a replay of the clash between Geisha and Slick. "At last night's grand opening of Club Dread, we nearly had a situation on our hands between the homicidal Geisha and Slick Giovanni! One can only hope we get to see that kind of bad blood tonight!"

"We must have forgotten to mention this earlier — our new Exterminators won't be fighting alone, folks! We've paired up each of our hopefuls with their own personal convict, forcing them to have to work together if they plan to win it all! After all, the better their Exterminator partners do, one can only hope that karma would help those criminals somehow."

"They better hope so — no one else will!" Dallas chuckled, waving an arm out towards the BattleDome, primed and surprisingly empty. "Introducing first, from Quartu and Kalebo III respectively, Silk of the Solar Winds a.k.a. 'White Noise' and Aeris Desdevon . . . Team Firestorm!"

A riff of techno sounded off as White Noise strutted out to a corner, wearing a jumpsuit in buff gold and red that flared out to accommodate his tufts. Aeris came out in a similar sleeveless jumpsuit, spreading his wings wide as they came out, surveying the crowd. White Noise smirked, his eyes at half-mast, shaking his mane free before glancing out at the field.

From another corner, the doorway opened, the backlit tunnel showing only silhouettes until they trotted forward, in similar uniforms of lavender with white trim, and — more worryingly — both of them carrying identical weaponry on their backs. Cypress smirked as she saw them. "From Aridia and Shaar, please welcome Adari'a Ku'vou and 'Crosshairs' Charity Drizel, Team Predator!"

"Should I be concerned that they're dressed in purple while trying to call themselves that?" Dallas mused, glancing down.

"With those cannons, they can dress however the hell they like." Cypress remarked. "We've had to make it clear tonight to stick to non-lethal force again, and either way, 'Bruise Ooze' isn't something you want to end up on the wrong end of."

Dallas picked up a worried tone in his voice. "You're sure those are non-lethal, right?"

She chuckled. "Well, I could probably ask them to try and hit you from here to test it . . ."

"Never mind, then, now let me take this next one!" Dallas quickly moved to switch the subject, watching the far end of the field to await the next entrance. He was about to speak, when a guitar chord — the same one that cut Slick off last night, even — sounded over the speaker system. "Ooh, nice entrance music! I like it!"

"You've got to be kidding me . . ." Cypress groaned as she saw Ace Hardlight appearing in Red and Blue, bearing his traditional Hardlight insignia no less, although Geisha was tugging on his outfit as he came out, as though the mere act of wearing pants bothered him. "There is only one man who can pull off Motörhead, and neither of them are it!"

"From Oltanis and Batalia, introducing Ace Hardlight and Kurt Striaeta, a.k.a. Geisha . . . Team Sovereign!"

Adari'a and White Noise blinked, with White Noise giving Ace an added gesture for his trouble. "It doesn't look like the other two Exterminators are happy with Ace's choice of a team name; to be fair, neither am I."

"I'm just wondering if Slick is about to show his face here, after last night's snafu with Geisha . . ." Dallas remarked, saying the last bit in a snide tone. "After all, I don't think those two stand a chance out here anyh-"

"_Hang my head, drown in fear . . . till you all just disappear . . ._"

". . . woah . . ." Dallas blinked, glancing out at the last corner of the field as it opened. "Guess I was wrong."

"_Black Hole Sun, won't you come . . ._" The voices became clearer and crisper as Jigsaw came out with Slick only a few steps behind her, in ice blue jumpsuits, save for the very top and sleeves done in black, both of them singing in unison. " _. . . and wash the rain away . . . _"

Cypress smirked. "From Veldin, introducing Jigsaw Forte and Slick Giovanni . . . Team Black Hole Sun!"

"Are they allowed to use the song like that?" Dallas peeped up, to which Cypress shrugged. Jigsaw and Slick were too engrossed in sizing up their opponents to care what the announcers were saying, more intent on scanning the field.

"Think we should've brought something a little more substantial?" Slick remarked, pointing out Adari'a and Crosshairs.

Jigsaw cast a glance at him. "We'll be fine."

Cypress took a glance out towards the center of the field, noticing the opening gate on one side, and she grinned at it. "Now here's where it gets interesting."

Spyro walked out onto the field, his bulk nearly filling the gate, with a small humanoid on top of his back. The red-haired woman sat up, revealing a fluttering white lab coat and blood red jumpsuit, with a black devil's tail poking out from under the lab coat; Spyro had evidently been painted in the same colors as well. She slid off of the robot's back, casting a glance out at the others as she landed on her feet . . . and then promptly slipped, falling, causing her left leg to snap free and reveal its metallic origin.

"Oh, great . . ." Ace muttered. "I'm supposed to wail on that?"

"Hang on, she's a _what_?" Dallas blinked, as the fluttering and beeping of virtual documents could be heard over the microphone. Daisy snarled slightly as she pulled the leg back into place, standing up tall, if not a little wobbly.

"From the Obani moon system and Rilgar . . . Daisy Archanis, a.k.a. 'Dark Arch' and Spyro, Team Clockwork!" Cypress spoke up as Daisy glanced about, her eyes narrowing slightly at Ace. She snapped her fingers, and a pair of metal supports shot out from the sleeves of her coat, touching the ground. A pair of handles sprung free of the newly extended metal crutches, which she latched onto, using them to stabilize her current stance. Without a word or even a semblance of pain, Daisy started walking forward in a stilted, mechanical fashion, towards the center of the field. "It's no secret that Daisy's physical prowess is nowhere near her mental skills, but today ought to prove in short order just what that means for our 'newest' contestant."

Jigsaw hesitated for a moment, before trotting towards the center of the field as well, followed by the others. The field soon became all too tense, everyone passing glances to everyone else, sizing each other up, weighing the tactical advantages from paws to claws to, well, prosthetics. Daisy's eyes were on Ace, Ace's eyes on Adari'a, Adari'a's eyes on Silk, Silk's eyes on Jigsaw, and Jigsaw's eyes kept fluttering back among everyone else's, not knowing who to keep watch on.

The hiss of metal as a pair of goal-sized cages came onto the field was certainly something to take note of, though. The two cages appeared on either end of the field, and suddenly, it made sense to Jigsaw, who blurted out, "It's a pitch! They've got us on a damned football pitch!"

"Ooh, she is clever." Cypress chuckled. "I'll make this introduction quick so we can get on to the mayhem. You'll notice two 'goals' on each side of the field; they're for knocking your opponents into. If a lieutenant goes into them, they'll trap the lieutenant for 60 seconds; if an Exterminator goes into them, they seal shut. The round ends when both goals are sealed, and the exterminators inside are disqualified and eliminated from the tournament. Any questions?"

"Yeah, dragon-bot's too big for the goals!" Ace snapped. "What about him?"

"Is he? Ooops . . ." Cypress shrugged, holding out a whistle in one hand. "Game on!"

As soon as Cypress blew the whistle, three things happened:

One, Daisy jumped up, using her crutches to balance herself as she nailed Ace square in the chin with her metal leg, knocking Ace down for six in a most definite manner, and making it clear that regardless of how Daisy fought, it wasn't clean and it wasn't what they were expecting.

Two, Adari'a whipped out the 'Bruise Ooze' cannon on her back, waving it around in a wide arc and causing White Noise to have to duck to avoid getting nailed by it, forcing him to dive forward towards Jigsaw, regardless of who he would have wanted for a target otherwise.

Three, White Noise turned his defensive maneuver into an offensive one, sending a kick into Jigsaw's midsection and finding out accidentally-on-purpose that Jigsaw made a fine soccer ball, once you got her to curl up right.

As soon as the others saw this, hell broke loose, as Daisy wasted no time running along, using her crutches to dribble the rolling Jigsaw across the field, showing off more skill than Jigsaw would have preferred (and was dribbling rather hard as well, judging by the yelps coming from the 'football'). Daisy ended up tackled by White Noise in short order, causing Jigsaw to roll free, careening towards the end of the field.

"Uh oh, we could be looking at an early elimination here . . ." Cypress noted, watching her roll, but Jigsaw quickly unfurled herself, running back for the others. She yelped and started running for the far side of the field when she noticed Geisha hot on her trail.

"Get back here, you fuzzy excuse for a kangaroo!" Geisha roared, chasing the Lombax up the field until she rolled to slip under Spyro's belly, causing the large bot to turn and glare at Geisha. "Woah . . . nice wyrm . . . ni-i-ice wyrm . .."

Meanwhile, Adari'a and Charity were trying to gang up on White Noise, but the spry Anyr kept dodging their attacks, moving with the kinetic range of a foxtail ball. Adari'a growled, running to scoop up and recover the ooze she was firing out of her cannon, before deciding to change tactics, swinging her cannon with a wide berth, knocking Aeris flat.

"All right, gnats . . . miss one, swat another . . ." She smirked, flipping out the sight on her cannon and trotting to take aim, sending a glob of green goo right into the small of Daisy's back, knocking her to the ground face first, leaving Ace a chance to grab her by the seat of her jumpsuit.

Ace started running towards a goal with her, a large grin on his face, but Daisy was ready. She glanced down, but then shot her crutches out of her sleeves again, tripping Ace up, leaving the two of them rolling towards the end of the field. A kick of her good leg later, and Ace looked to be careening on a one-way ride to the goal.

At the last moment, Geisha dived on him, knocking him out of the way just in time, using his extra limbs to slow him down. Ace looked shocked, before giving a sigh of relief.

Slick ran downfield, shooting out a gauntlet to take hold of one of Daisy's crutches, the grapple latching on around it despite her still being on the ground. Daisy sat up, saw the grip he had on her supports, and she chuckled, the crutch retracting, allowing her to grab onto the grapple's cable for herself. "So the lab rat wants to play? Then let's play!"

Slick blinked, then found himself in a tug of war as Daisy pulled herself up, trying to yank Slick off his feet. The two struggled, with Daisy still sitting and Slick at a vertical base but straining to pull Daisy off-balance. White Noise saw this, then grinned before whistling in Charity's direction. "Hey, Spider-Lady! Catch me if you can!"

The Anyr laughed as he ran, making a distinct effort to weave around a few of the other players as well, leaping over Jigsaw, who was now keeping a low profile and causing Adari'a to look like she was chasing after her tail. One glance at Charity's chase, however, and soon both Exterminators were following Charity's lead and on White Noise's trail.

White Noise grinned as he bore down, heading towards Slick and Daisy's tug of war, before sliding underneath the cable of Slick's grapple, dodging it with ease. His chasers, however . . .

Adari'a roared as her paws hit the cabling, tumbling over, kicking Jigsaw three yards backwards into Spyro and stunning Charity, who avoided getting hit by Adari'a's hind feet but tripped over the cable herself, providing the added momentum to knock both herself and Adari'a into the goal.

"FUCK!" Charity snarled as the cage door came down on the goal, locking them inside. Adari'a just mewled, hands grasping at the cage bars.

"And there we go!" Dallas cried out. "Adari'a is out of here, and Charity doesn't even get the chance to play spoiler!"

"This could be bad for DreadZone's princess. Daisy's proving to be quite the formidable opponent, and if she doesn't get herself taken out in short order, Adari'a could find herself on the ropes!"

Slick laughed, retracting his grapples, causing Daisy to yelp as they shot back towards his wrists. Jigsaw directed him to run to the far end of the field, and he followed, along with the rest of the players eager to slip an unwilling contestant into the goal. The two Lombaxes went on either side of Ace Hardlight, circling him. Slick was putting on most of the pressure though, shooting out grapples every couple of seconds at Ace's feet, baiting him.

Spyro had refocused his attention on White Noise, while Daisy had scrambled back up to her feet, sparring with Geisha, careful to keep her eyes on his hands. Geisha took hold of one of the crutches already, and was reaching out to grab the other, but having some difficultly. Daisy yelped, pulling Geisha off balance, before driving her metallic knee up and into his groin.

Geisha rolled off of her, growling, holding himself with one arm and using the other three to stabilize himself. Daisy pulled herself back up, smirking, then yelped as Geisha grabbed a crutch and tried to pull her back down again. He barked out a hard laugh before responding, "You'll have to kick harder than that, girlie!"

"Now this is more like it!" Cypress grinned, watching the field unfold in front of her. Aeris was coasting over the surface of the field, dropping behind White Noise to lift him up and toss him onto the top of Spyro, with a few feathers left in his hand. Spyro started trying to roll White Noise off, only to find the Anyr already half-buried under a junction panel, tail flapping about with glee.

"What are you -!" Spyro shouted, before his voice was replaced by a loud 'click', followed by a whirring noise. Spyro turned towards Ace and Jigsaw, walking right past Daisy and Geisha.

Jigsaw blinked, finding herself with one of Spyro's feet right behind her, as the large dragon grinned, and then spoke with White Noise's voice. "Who's first, punks?"

Ace fell backwards, as Jigsaw ran under Spyro's head. "Slick, Get some hooks in those horns! I want that suborned bot down and out before you can say-!"

"Geisha!" Ace cried out, backing up further, almost into Slick, before getting back to his feet and starting to run.

"Sure, that'll work." Jigsaw remarked absentmindedly, keeping her eyes on Spyro for now.

On the far side of the field, Geisha grinned, pulling out two sets of fans he had tucked away in his back pocket. He turned for Jigsaw, but Slick saw it coming, his eyes going wide.

"'Saw!" He cried out as he turned to alter the aim of his gauntlets, grabbing hold of her arms and pulling her to the ground before she could respond, the fans whizzing harmlessly past her. Unfortunately, the position Slick put himself in proved to be equally disastrous, trying to duck but still ending up in the fans' path, both of them whizzing right past his face.

He kneeled there for a moment, stunned, frozen, amazed to be alive. Almost in disbelief, he reached for the sides of his head . . . and almost looked relieved for a moment to draw back blood on his hands.

Spyro froze shut, bucking enough to get White Noise tumbling out of his junction panel, stunned in disbelief. Jigsaw pulled herself up on her elbows, looking up at him. "That can't be good . . ."

"Wow, Cypress, looks like this time you CAN make a purse out of Slick's ears!" Dallas piped up.

"Not funny!" Cypress hissed back, looking down at the scene of carnage — three feet behind Slick were the fans stuck in the ground, and on either side of Slick were the severed portions of his ears, oozing puddles of blood. Slick barely looked like he should be able to remain upright, his shoulders quickly becoming colored with the 'crimson hood'.

"Slick . . ." Jigsaw blinked, standing back up, prying the grapples off her arms as she ran over to him, the playing field momentarily frozen. "What was . . . why . . ."

"Murder- . . . -er . . ." Slick managed out, before collapsing on the ground, weak from the loss of blood. "Fan blades . . . kill . . ."

"Those fans are bladed? What the hell was he thinking?" Cypress snarled, grabbing her whistle and detaching her headset from the amplifier in the announcer's desk. "That's lethal force! He's not supposed to have those in there!"

"Yeah, but now that he's got 'em, what're you supposed to-? Hey! HEY! You're not supposed to get up on the desk like that, either!" Dallas cried out, as Cypress readied herself, then leapt off the desk. "Gleeman's going to have a fit, I know it . . ."

Cypress landed on the field, blowing her whistle, bringing Jigsaw and Geisha to a halt. A second blow stopped Ace and Aeris in their tracks, and after a third blow, she lashed out, kicking White Noise to the ground and glaring at Spyro until the wingless dragon-bot stopped and sat down. Daisy was the only one still moving, but as she was sitting, Cypress didn't much care.

White Noise blinked, holding his head. "The hell is going on here?"

Cypress glared at him, then regained her composure. From an interior pocket of her jacket, she pulled out a medikit, tossing it over to Jigsaw. "Get your lieutenant's ears closed up before he bleeds to death." Once she rebuttoned her jacket, Cypress narrowed her eyes and focused her glare on a more deserving target. "Ace . . . Kurt . . . get your hides over here, NOW."

Jigsaw huddled over Slick, applying the kit quickly and wrapping the bandaging tight around Slick's head, casting a glance at Cypress now and then as Geisha marched over, holding his other two fans, while Ace walked over with a glare on his face. If Geisha was glaring, Cypress wasn't looking, as evidenced by the hand she was holding up to the side of her head while keeping her eyes only on Ace.

"Who the hell authorized Kurt to bring his fans in here?" Cypress narrowed her eyes.

Ace's eyes went even narrower. "I did."

"I thought I told you no lethal force."

"Those fans are only dangerous if spun."

"And guns are only dangerous if they're aimed right. I already had this talk with Charity and 'Pinky' over there." She snarled, pointing at the caged-in pair, "I made it clear they couldn't use the rifles they'd been training with all week. If they can't use deadly force, neither can you."

"You never said he couldn't bring them in!" Ace growled. "You can't hold me responsible for this!"

Geisha started to mutter under his breath, casting a glance away at his injured quarry. "The rodent deserved it anyway."

"Shut up." Cypress lowered her hand just long enough to give Geisha a quick smack on the neck, returning her glare to Ace. "I didn't say anything about the fans because I had no clue that they were useful, lethal weapons. Geisha never mentioned this fact to me when he asked for them as part of his personal effects."

Ace glanced at Geisha. "You want a scapegoat, fine, take him out. I'm not taking the fall for his stupidity — after all, if you didn't know, what makes you think he ever told me about this?"

"I'll be honest with you; I'm not sure if he ever told you his fans were lethal." Cypress responded, causing Ace to smirk. "Which is why I'm having Nathaniel and Damien review the past week of footage to make sure of that. Including transcripts."

Ace's face fell upon hearing that. "Oh, shit."

"I'll take that as an admission of guilt." The next few moments were spent tapping her headset, making sure it was working. "Ladies and Gentlemen, as a result of a disqualification . . ." A quick wave of booing erupted, causing Cypress to pause for a moment. "Advancing to the final round of the Exterminator Tournament are White Noise, Adari'a Ku'vou, and Jigsaw Forte!"

The crowd continued to boo, but Cypress was beyond caring at that point. "Ace, take your 'lieutenant' and get off my field. And just so we're clear on this . . . if Daisy becomes an Exterminator, she's taking your spot."

"You can't do that!" Ace snarled.

Cypress raised both eyebrows, her eyes still narrow. "I just did."

_- zloop! -_

"No, that's not the end of that episode, but that's the end for tonight." Cypress piped up, holding the remote. "We've been sitting here for entirely too long letting everyone's collective brains rot from watching all that at once."

"Not to mention the impression of 'Hear No Evil' those three are doing kind of creeps me out." Adari'a remarked, looking down at the three Lombaxes on the couch, all three of them clutching at their ears in sympathy pain. "I'd say it's turn-in-time."

"Sounds about right." Big Al stood up, wandering over to where they'd stashed the cots and blankets. "Same as last night?"

"Er, I'll just pull some rank and work the bridge tonight, if no one minds . . ." Jigsaw suggested in a sheepish tone. "Just to make sure we don't have anyone worrying about repeats or anything."

"I could handle it if you'd rather." Clank piped up, glancing over at her.

"Don't worry about it, I do this all the time." She remarked, still with a strangely giddy look on her face — like she was trying to hide something, almost. "I'll see you all in the morning!"

"Well, as long as she's splitting off, I think there's a mattress calling my name . . ." Cypress stood up, working a crick out of her back.

Adari'a pulled herself up as well, placing a hand in Dimitri's short hair, giving it a quick ruffle. "Ditto. Looks like you boys get to keep the back end to yourselves tonight!"

"Er . . . okay . . ." Ratchet blinked, slightly confused, while Dimitri just seemed to keep his eyes on Adari'a as the three girls left the room. After last night's little trip, it only made him wonder more what was going on here.


	22. Catching up to Everyone

_Am I the queen up your sleeve  
When you got no ace  
Am I a slap in your face  
Am I the boy in your bed  
When you're feeling down  
Am I your living dead . . ._

- "Feed You with a Kiss" by Zeromancer

**Chapter 21  
Catching up to Everyone**

* * *

Gangrel blinked, opening the door to see Ratchet approaching the bridge by himself. "Ratchet? What are you doing here?" 

The Lombax shrugged, still with a little bit of sleep in his eyes. "Woke up and came down here. What's it look like?"

"But you arrived so early. Did you not sleep well?" Gangrel hovered a little closer, pulling her hands up in front of her face as though concerned.

"I slept fine. I can't have been that early . . ." Ratchet glanced around the bridge, before returning his gaze to Gangrel. ". . . right?"

"Ratchet, ship time is currently set to 5:00 AM."

"Oh." He blinked, scanning the bridge again. "All the more reason for me to be here, right? After all, Jigsaw said she was pulling an all-nighter."

"She just scanned my diagnostics and strapped herself up for the night." The node floated behind him as he walked. "That and a few last-minute adjustments as we'll be approaching the _San Andreas_ within the next six hours. Recoding the locks on the freezers and all that."

"What's so important about the freezers? Have a few bodies hidden in there or something?" There was an uneasy chuckle from Ratchet, but Gangrel just floated there, unamused. " . . . come on, it was a joke."

"I know that you are aware of my captain's special . . . dietary requirements, but she takes her situation quite seriously." Gangrel put a hand back up to her face, wearing a slightly concerned look. "Vampirism is still a crime in several parts of the galaxy, Ratchet; I would rather not take that chance with my captain. I've helped her survive through entirely too many things to let something as transient and subjective as the law get her killed."

The Lombax shook his head. "Interesting line, given her current position."

Gangrel still didn't appear amused. "She's not doing anything wrong. She's got as much right to live as any other carnivore — though it does make matters that much more complicated."

Ratchet shrugged. "Whatever. So where is she?"

"She's here." The doll's response included a smile and nod Ratchet started glancing around the bridge again, wandering a fair clip before Gangrel realized her blunder. "Oh! It would probably help if I dropped the cloaking."

"That would be nice . . ." Ratchet's remark was dry as Jigsaw came into view in front of him, laying on what looked to be a cross between a rack and an operating table. He blinked, then blinked again, before taking a step back. "Oooh-kay, anyone who thinks they need to be held down like that is probably not safe to disturb."

"Stay . . . don't leave me here . . ." Jigsaw eked out, trembling on the table.

Ratchet froze, having picked up on her words, turning towards the Gangrel-doll. "What's going on?"

Gangrel shrugged, glancing over at Ratchet. "Sometimes she straps herself in here when she wants to be alone."

"She doesn't sound like she wants to be alone right now." He remarked, walking a little closer to the table. Jigsaw's head rested on what passed for padding, while her wrists were bound under thick cuffs that spanned from her wrist to halfway up her forearms. Her legs were loose, one knee in the air and the other askew, dressed only in light, slightly lacy clothing, as though this was just part and parcel of her going to sleep. Ratchet crept in closer, standing on a nearby stepstool that Jigsaw must've used to get up there herself.

He glanced down at her, the slight tightening in his chest rising up again to see her there the way he did at the medic's office. This time, there was only his own hesitation keeping from from staring as long as he liked, noting the stripes running down her neck and shoulders, the small, teasing tuft of fur that poked out over the hem of her shirt, the minor motions of her bare feet . . . Ratchet just stood there as though he'd stumbled upon the holy grail, as Gangrel sat on his shoulder like a tiny conscience.

"Can she sense me?" Ratchet whispered, careful not to wake her.

"She can. Just a passive link, though." The doll glanced at him. "She should stay asleep as long as it gels with her dream. Whatever is in your head right now, keep thinking it."

His eyes fluttered to narrow slits, and he smirked. "Somehow I don't think that's the right thing to do here."

"Been so long . . ." Jigsaw murmured, her knee falling to the table, her clothed legs now held wide, causing Ratchet's eyes to widen as well. "Too long . . ."

Ratchet blinked, standing back a few inches. There was a reason the phrase 'Let sleeping Lombaxes lie' was still around, and damned if moments like this weren't why. He knew where her mind was heading, she had to know where his mind was since she wasn't waking up from this, and it left him in a bad position; if he backed off or started showing too much fear, it might wake her up and she'd figure out what happened fast enough to get upset at him. If he stayed too long . . . well, she'd get pissed off a lot faster, especially if she thought he was taking advantage of her.

After a moment's hesitation, he calmed down, one hand reaching out for her face as he pulled himself up the side of the table. As long as he controlled himself, he could justify his actions up to a point — saying he thought she was ill, or something similar. And if that didn't work, well . . . better to be considered a pervert than a rapist.

He cupped one side of her head in his hand, relieved to hear the small purr in the back of her throat. A minor tremor ran down her spine, causing Ratchet to take notice of her body again, and pause himself. He had to keep his own emotions under check, had to stay calm, had to try and resist-. Well, too late to avoid that detail, but he'd deal with that on his own time. At minimum, he'd deal with it when he wasn't about to make an ass out of himself as it was.

Jigsaw purred again, hips bucking up this time, whimpering now. "Please . . . I have to feel it . . ."

Ratchet paused, glancing at Gangrel again, who was starting to back off and play the silent observer. This was becoming too much, too fast, too . . . well, risky. He was about to get himself into lots of trouble if he made any assumptions. He leaned in closer, glancing up for a moment at a frightened Gangrel, before glancing back down at the face of the sleeping Jigsaw.

"Say it." Ratchet glanced down, taking a risk. "Say what I want to hear."

"Please . . ." Jigsaw mewled back, head twisting enough to bring one ear off the pillow, her fangs extended in reflex.

"Not until I hear it." Ratchet spoke again, breathing hard now. Sleeping or not, he had to know, had to make sure that she wasn't about to turn him inside out over this. "Say my name. Say it, now."

"Oh . . . Slick . . ."

"The drug dealer?" Ratchet shot up, half-shouting and stunned.

"He's not a pusher, he's a-!" Jigsaw barked and then blinked, realizing she was awake. She looked up at Ratchet, noting Gangrel hovering nearby, then looking at Ratchet, from the placement of one knee on her thigh to the hands on her ribs. Her eyes narrowed, as it quickly became unnecessary to ask questions. "Off."

"Yes ma'am." Ratchet jumped down, sufficiently freaked out. He blinked, noting the dangling control switch on the side of the table, and Jigsaw continued to glare at him, pulling her elbows up, until he handed her the controls and she freed her arms. "Look, I wasn't even trying to-."

"I know, Ratchet." Her eyes flitted over to his for a moment, keeping him frozen there, before she shook her head, dismounting from the table. "I suppose I should've expected that . . . but no matter. No harm done, or at least not enough to justify anything worth fighting over."

"That's a rel-" Ratchet managed out before receiving a vicious forehand across his face. Ratchet held his hand to his face, but kept quiet.

Jigsaw raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. It took a moment before Ratchet smirked back, crossing his arms. "We have to do this by your rules, eh?"

"Damn straight." She walked over to a cabinet in the wall, pulling out a black jumpsuit trimmed in green and white. "In the meantime, I'm looking to make a decent impression on this crew, and that means I need to look like I have one of my own. I trust that after your 'show', you won't mind dressing up as an honor guard."

Ratchet held his arms out, catching the jumpsuit, before running out to grab the second one as well. "What's with the second one?"

"You'll be convincing Dimitri into the second one once he wakes up." She smiled, pulling out her cloak and armor. "At least one of you won't complain as much about having your fur matted down the way Adari'a does."

_. . . time passes . . ._

"Places everyone!" Jigsaw called out, standing in the hangar of the _Gangrel_, her hair pulled back into a bun and wearing her armor with her cloak, smiling as she noticed people falling into place. Ratchet had successfully convinced Dimitri not only into a jumpsuit, but also into the two of them wearing double-breasted jackets as well, with rifles in hand and a distinct air of dominance about the both of them. Big Al had (somehow) shoehorned himself into a jumpsuit, and even Clank volunteered to slip on a tabard to cover his robotic exterior, matching Gangrel's doll-sized version.

Ratchet blinked when he saw Cypress and Adari'a all suited up - Adari'a looked stiff and out of place, while Cypress stepped gingerly, a little 'too' used to having skirts on to deal with the clingyness of a jumpsuit. There was no mistaking the look, though — for better or worse, the ship finally looked like it had some order to it for once.

Dimitri smirked, making a few motions with one hand as he held his rifle in the other, before nodding and returning his attention forward to Jigsaw standing there, staff in hand. She tapped it once on the floor before speaking up. "I'm going to make this clear because I only intend to say it out loud once; we are guests aboard the _San Andreas_, and we damn well want to leave before we even scuff the welcome mat. Stick to the script, remember your lines — more to the point, remember that you have no lines — no unauthorized transmissions, no hitting the crew, no hitting _on_ the crew, and on the off chance we end up with shore leave, stay the hell out of Red Glow unless you want to be left there! Am I clear?"

"Crystal!" Everyone barked out at once, save for Dimitri, who stomped the butt of his rifle in time with the others.

"Move out!" Jigsaw responded, turning to face the door, motioning for Ratchet and Dimitri to stand on either side of her. They quickly pulled themselves into place, and she flashed a smile at both of them. "With any luck, once we make our initial show of strength, we'll just be able to lay back and ogle the mechanics while they bring the _Gangrel_ up to spec."

Dimitri gave her a raised eyebrow, to which she responded, "I know it's never that simple, but that's beside the point."

"Thirty seconds to touchdown in transport bay Gamma-Tau." Gangrel spoke, this time through the speaker grille in the cargo bay. "Approaching San Andreas on vector path Foxtrot-Tango-Gypsy."

The _Gangrel_ pulled herself into place, setting down gently on the bay's surface. By the time her cargo bay ramp opened, there was an impressive collection of soldiers and officers already waiting outside the perimeter of the ship for them. Ratchet glanced around at the surrounding crewmen and marines, keeping his mouth shut but noting that there were entirely too many soldiers for a 'typical' meeting. He knew being Protectorate was important, but there was something else about this that didn't jell right.

Jigsaw blinked, then started walking forward. Ratchet and Dimitri quickly found themselves in step behind her, and a few paces after that, Cypress, Adari'a, Clank and Al were behind them, with Gangrel sitting on Clank's shoulder.

The crew quickly made their way to the surface, with Jigsaw and her 'guards' still at the head of the pack. There was a tense, pregnant moment, before one of the officers stepped forward. The Arander officer walked with sure steps, keeping his eye on the Lombax trio. "Miss Forte, I presume?"

"Protectorate Jigsaw Forte of the Veldin Republic, speaking." She reponded with an even tone, eyes on the officer. "My ship, the courier-class _Gangrel_, is in need of your services, gentlemen."

"So we've been told." The officer replied. "If I may speak freely to you, Protectorate, your behavior at this point is . . . most puzzling. We don't usually have cases like yours aboard here."

Jigsaw smiled. "I realize that upgrades don't occur often here, but given my position as well as familiarity with the ship, I found it inev-."

Dimitri blinked, turning his head as though jolted by an electric shock. He turned his head to see Jigsaw wincing, in some kind of pain. Ratchet turned and noted the officer moving closer to the trio, prompting Ratchet to turn and hold his rifle barrel protectively in front of Jigsaw. The reaction was immediate, as the soldiers surrounding the Gangrel crew all pulled out their own weapons, although no one aimed to fire just yet. Dimitri crossed his own rifle barrel across Ratchet's, his eyes wide as well, and a little too aware of their surroundings right now.

The Arander narrowed his eyes, staring down at them. "Miss Forte, is there a problem?"

Jigsaw looked up at the officer, still with a sour look on her face. "Just a headache. I believe you were about to say something, Officer?"

"I am Captain Luke Severge, ma'am." He responded, before continuing with, "Protectorate Forte, you are under arrest."

"On what grounds?" Jigsaw frowned, not willing to give herself up just yet.

"Possession of a stolen vehicle, unlicensed mercenary activity, and interstellar piracy. The _Gangrel_'s vehicle identification has been flagged for the past four years by our database, and her signature has been found at several ports in association with illicit activities." Luke shook his head. "How such a 'noble' fighter such as yourself came across this ship is beyond me."

_Now he's just rubbing it in . . . _Jigsaw spoke to both Ratchet and Dimitri, before turning her head towards the officer, stepping forward and offering her wrists. "I request to keep my honor guard with me during my initial containment."

"You realize at the first sign of trouble that we would have to unarm and arrest them as well." Luke spoke up again, tipping his hat just slightly.

"I can keep my men under control." Jigsaw turned her head towards them, giving a nod that had Ratchet and Dimitri running to her side. "Are the rest of my crew allowed to return to the ship for now?"

"We will escort your crew into a holding tank until we determine the official status of your ship. In the meantime, you're coming with me. I recommend you and your honor guard do so quietly." Luke responded as he pulled out a set of handcuffs. "Speaking of which, these are for you."

Ratchet blinked as the cuffs were tossed to him, and he looked at Jigsaw, eyes wide. Jigsaw sighed, pulling her cloak to one side as she turned around to offer her wrists behind her back. "It's all right. Go on."

Ratchet slipped them on her, leaning over to whisper. "I don't like this. Something tells me we just stumbled upon a trap."

"Well, right now we're in no position to do anything about that. Just let me do the talking and we'll be back on Veldin soon enough." Jigsaw whispered back, testing her new bonds. "Fix my cloak back into place, please. Pull up my hood, while you're at it; having this many eyes on me is creeping me out."


	23. Sing a Song of Silence

_This face and heel  
Will drag your halo through the mud  
Ash of Pompeii  
Erupting in a statues dust  
Shrouded in veils  
Because these handcuffs hurt too much . . ._

- "Cicatriz ESP" by Mars Volta

**Chapter 22  
Sing a Song of Silence**

* * *

"Try to keep to the facts of the matter, Protectorate Forte." Luke spoke as he offered Jigsaw a seat, gesturing at it. "I'm not keen on you trying to lawyer yourself out of the situation."

"I don't think that will be difficult." She sat down, squirming to bring her cuffs to a comfortable height.

Luke nodded, a rare smile on his face — if you could look past the fanglike mandibles, at least. "A minor obstacle, I'm sure. After all, these charges are fairly severe . . ."

"The 'charges' are against my ship. That's where all your evidence is from, isn't it?"

"We've noticed her being used in a pattern indicative of general mayhem." Luke pulled out a datapad, scrolling through his list of evidence. "More to the point, they also happen to coincide with several related bids for mercenary action tied to an account for one 'Xeno Evil'."

Ratchet couldn't help but chuckle at this, causing the Captain to point at him with an uneasy hand, as though something about Ratchet didn't sit right with him. "You can see why we decided it was a pseudonym so quickly."

"Sounds like prosecution has an axe to grind." Jigsaw glanced up at him through her cloak.

Luke narrowed his eyes. "More like prosecution is trying to swing the axe. I don't suppose you can prove where you've been if not with that ship . . ."

"Not if you're so confused about her ID I can't." She sighed. "Look, I never pulled any mercenary action. If I did, I'd be flying around in something that at least had working missile bays."

"You'll have to do better than that. I don't suppose you could tell me what you were doing on Orxon a couple years back?"

She blinked, shaking her head to make her hood drop back down. "Be more specific. Are you referring to the _Toxic Tango_ or the _AfterGlow_?"

"Huh? Those weren't mentioned in your warrant." Luke blinked, before he started making a flurry of taps and queries on his datapad. He glanced up at Jigsaw, his face now slightly glistening with sweat, and Jigsaw could see that behind his mind, he was panicking, as though he expected all the pieces to just fall into place and clean themselves out. "If you're confessing to other crimes, I remind you that this conversation is being recorded and is by definition acceptable as evidence in a court of law, and that-"

"They're not confessions, they're clubs I worked in." She spoke up again, interrupting him. Ratchet blinked, before Jigsaw added on, "Nightclubs, damn it."

Luke blinked, slightly concerned, and very much confused now. "Nightclubs? As what, a dancer, a bouncer, a bartender?"

She shook her head. "Going on concert properly wasn't an option anymore . . . the music circuit's quiet. Real easy to lay low like that."

"And you expect me to believe this?" Luke narrowed his eyes slightly. "Granted, your dossier said you were an accomplished violinist, but I have no reason to believe that you can still perform as you once did."

"Why not?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Armed combat requires a certain toughening of the muscles, both to hold a variety of weaponry and to compensate for the recoil. Playing a musical instrument requires fingers of a certain speed, able to move to the right places and essentially memorize where to dampen the strings in order to place certain pitches. While these two skills are not mutually exclusive of each other, they are an unusual combination." Luke spoke, glancing down at her. "You would have had to relearn how to play your instruments in order to compensate for your new muscle tone from combat."

"Intriguing deduction, captain." She smiled at him. "However, I'll gladly inform you that I've kept up my musical training while I worked on DreadZone. Had you watched a few episodes of it, you would have noticed this, I'm sure."

"Actually, I caught a clip of the Season One Finale, and I have to say, it didn't sound as good to me."

"The hell are you doing, man?" Ratchet barked, causing Luke to take a step back. "She does music, that's enough!"

"Ratchet, hush." Jigsaw hissed.

Luke blinked, pointing at Ratchet again. "Ratchet Wrench?"

"Yeah . . ." Ratchet glanced over at Jigsaw, who was having a minor laugh at this revelation. "I don't like people using my last name. Causes entirely too much confusion."

"My apologies, Mr. Wrench."

"Ratchet. Rat_chet_. Just the first name, okay?" He responded, the fur on his ears lying flat.

"Understood, Mr. Wrench." Luke responded again, causing Ratchet to groan. "As for my line of questioning, I'm merely trying to ferret out whether Miss Forte here, as accomplished in the world of music as she is, would even tolerate her lackluster performance enough to stoop so low."

Jigsaw narrowed her eyes. "Damn it, I could name off every smokehouse, easy, and disco that I've played in for the past three years. How much more proof do you need?"

"What about the first year the ship was stolen? She's had this record for four years."

"I've only been driving her the last three!" Jigsaw piped up, causing Luke to blink, checking his records again, looking furtively to see if he had calculated the dates wrong. "Damn it, we both know I'm right! And stop with the mental recursion!"

He blinked, staring at her with a look, wondering how she figured that much out, before scanning the datapad again. "When did you say you started driving her?"

"I'm bad with the dates. It'd be about two weeks after the end of DreadZone's second season."

"Good, I can pull that date down . . . That's not right." He frowned, looking at his datapad. "The pattern holds consistently along all four years. The ship wasn't even in port on that date, and that date is within a four-month span that the ship wasn't even in the Shadow Sector."

"You're kidding me." She raised an eyebrow, before going, "No . . . you're not. It's not in you to do so."

"This isn't your ship's records." He closed his datapad, a flat look on his face. "It's mathematically impossible to be your ship. But the datapad says it is."

"Then the datapad is wrong. Listen, I know Cyp-. I know my _officer_ purchased the ship on Kronos. Granted, you have to assume that anything you buy in the Shadow Sector is stolen or soon will be-."

"Oh, I know I would." Luke interjected, almost talking to himself.

"-but at the same time, I had the closest thing that passed to a title in that ship; the native intelligence, if there was even one to begin with, had been ripped out. I installed Gangrel into the ship and homebrewed her current operating system custom for the ship. Whether you wish to believe that I'm the current rightful owner of the ship or not, I know I own Gangrel by sheer creation rights. Installing her has made so many critical alternations to the ship that it's worthless if she's gutted from it anyway. I'd just as soon pay restitution by current scrap prices than try to return the ship in such a state." Jigsaw shrugged. "But, since your records on it are so flawed to begin with, knowing 'who' to pay has now become impossible."

"I'm still trying to figure out how the records could be so wrong . . ." Luke shook his head. "No, that's just it. The pattern is too perfect. No wonder I didn't notice it before — every other pattern, I notice the deviations, but this time there are none, and I should've seen that having no flaws means the evidence _itself _is flawed."

"Seriously?" Jigsaw glanced up at him. "Unlock these cuffs and let me look at that."

"There's no point in it; we no longer have any evidence against you. You're free to go." Luke sighed, and he tapped a button on his badge, causing Jigsaw's handcuffs to hit the chair before dropping to the floor. "I have more work ahead of me in figuring out how the evidence was tampered with and why, but this is detective work. I'm sure you have other things you'd rather be doing."

"Rectifying that humiliating scene at my ship's landing and paying for her upgrades are my main concerns right now." She remarked, glancing up at him. "If you can find a way to accomplish both in short order, I would appreciate it."

"Well, there is one way." He pondered for a moment, fussing with one of his mandibles. "It would also give me a chance to see just how likely it is that you actually did that nightclub work as well."

"Keep talking . . ."

"We're having the ship's generals down in this sector tonight for a minor celebration, and unfortunately our main entertainment had to be replaced within the last 48 hours with a comic due to a deployment conflict." Luke explained, before continuing, "I'm relatively certain that live music would be preferred much more, even if you would only be working part of the night. The pay at the particular restaurant where you'll be working isn't much, but it includes feeding your crew for the time you're working there."

Jigsaw's eyes lit up. "Deal!"

Luke blinked, then winced. "I should remind you that for your pair of carnivores, there IS a maximum serving by weight . . ."

"They'll deal. Now show me and my men where the rest of our crew is!"

_. . . meanwhile . . ._

"I hate downtime . . ." Cypress grumbled as she spawled herself over a dozing Adari'a's back. "As though I thought I hadn't watched enough holovision as is."

"Hey, I _like_ 'Bolts or No Bolts'!" Big Al shot back, holding on tightly to the remote control, much to her dismay.

"Please . . . the game's been out for only five centuries now. It's all pick-and-cross-your-fingers, and yet the galaxy eats it up!" Cypress shook her head, then sighed. "If it wasn't owned by Vox, I'd probably start poking at it further . . ."

"Quiet! They're about to go to 'these messages'." Clank perked up, holding Gangrel in his lap. "I like the new ones Residence Star has been putting out."

Cypress chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Leave it to a robot to pay attention to the commercials more than the show . . ."

She put her head down, deciding to ignore the commercials, when a strange tune started to play and cause her to perk up. She glanced haphazardly at the screen, before standing up.

On the holovision, there was a dark, dismal carnival environment, highlighted with glowing tubes of neon reds and blues illuminating the tracks of coasters and other amusements, paired up with a airy tune that only seemed to play in minor pitches, in keeping with the somber environment. The view panned, but nothing seemed to occur on the screen, except when a blood-red logo of an angelic jolly roger appeared in the center of all this, along with the words 'Cirque du Mortis'. It held on this image before the screen quickly flashed the phrase 'Freedom is Coming' along with the logo of the Vox Network before it went to black, leading off into the next commercial.

"Woah . . ." Big Al stood up. "Freaky."

"Looks like fun!" Gangrel chirped up, clapping for the commercial, hovering a little before Clank caught her again, and in the midst of this, Cypress stood there, stunned, almost flustered.

She stood there for a moment, before narrowing her eyes. "Those traitors . . . I can't believe they're still going ahead with this!"

"What about that show bothers you?" Clank blinked, standing up.

"It's not the show itself — although I'll be the first to admit I haven't had a close look at it — but that they're still trying to push it ahead while we're in litigation!" She growled, pointing at it. "If I win and it tanks, the company loses value, If I win and it takes off, I won't be able to touch it without looking petty."

Clank seemed confused. "Is pettiness that important to you?"

She shrugged. "In the starting stages of running my father's business, my image is one of the few weapons in my arsenal I can actually touch."

Clank looked like he was about to ask another question, but just then there was a click at the door of the holding tank, opening wide to show Ratchet, Dimitri, and Jigsaw standing there, smirking.

"All right, ladies, ready to sing for supper tonight?" She chimed, grinning at the lot.

Cypress blinked, putting out her hands, "Woah, woah! What happened?"

"Apparently the evidence on our ship was cooked, so they tossed it out with their case on us. Now, as I said, if you expect to get fed-."

"Doesn't that bother you?" Cypress interjected as Adari'a started to wake up. "Shouldn't we be concerned about who might've tried to get us jailed like this? We could've been sent up the river thanks to that bad data."

"Look, the detective trying to nail us on this was just doing his job. I don't think that if this were a big conspiracy that they'd let someone bungle it up by figuring out the evidence was bad."

Adari'a blinked, then shook her head. "The guy following orders didn't collect the proof."

"She's right. We don't know who had it in after us. We don't even know who was trying to collect on the ship. For all we know, my father might have set the whole thing up months ago to-!"

"Please. Vox was underhanded, but not that like that." Ratchet cut her off. "I'm next to certain that if he knew about you enough to track you down to a single ship, he'd have come by himself to collect."

Jigsaw glanced at him, before returning her gaze to Cypress. "I would've used the term 'tactical nuke', but he's got a fair point."

"Well then who else would've pulled this? We've got enemies, sure, but the only one crazy enough to go about breaking the law to get back at us is Vox. Well, what's left of the company, at least."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "Who IS left, anyway?"

"A good chunk of Vox Enterprises blew up with DreadZone Station, but there's enough left to keep a decent amount of the company afloat. As far as upper management goes . . . There's Aunt Marie, along with my cousins Nate and Damien. You saw them in the video before we landed."

Adari'a counted on her fingers before looking up at Cypress. "Thought there were supposed to be four of 'em!"

"Please, the Avon lady's a myth." She rolled her eyes. "I'm halfway convinced they just invented and/or over-promoted her so they could have a puppet in charge of the company. There's no WAY my Father in his right mind — no, even in his _wrong_ mind — would be so brazen as to have anything other than a Zillan inheriting his position!"

Ratchet turned his head to Jigsaw, who sensed it almost immediately and whispered to him, "Dahlia Avon's the new CEO of Vox Enterprises, or at least that's what Gleeman's most recent version of his will stated. We've never seen her, we'd never heard of her while we were working for him, and we damn well don't trust her."

"At any rate . . ." Cypress sighed, holding her head. "Whoever has it in for us isn't about to give up this easily. You better make sure while we're getting all of Gangrel's repairs and upgrades done, that we have a definitive title on her and that her records are clear."

"And while you're at it, we ought to make sure she looks like a proper courier-plus ship this time. You're one of the top creatures on Veldin, and damn it, the ship ought to look like it!"

"Well, we'll see if we can afford it. I've got to do good tonight so we can work the remainder of the gig while they're giving the _Gangrel _the royal treatment." She glanced over at Ratchet, smirking. "And you better believe I will!"


	24. Almost Anything Goes

_Didn't make sense just to live for fun,  
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb,  
So much to do, so much to see,  
So what's wrong with taking the backstreets . . ._

- "Rock Star" by Smash Mouth

**Chapter 23  
Almost Anything Goes  
**

* * *

"You sure she's good for tonight?" Ratchet glanced up at Adari'a, as the two stood in what passed for the 'backstage' section of the restaurant, glancing around. Ratchet (and several of the others) had changed back into more comfortable clothes, attempting to stay cool and calm, or at least as cool and calm as Ratchet ever managed to be these days. 

The centaur shrugged, glancing back at Cypress. "I tend to just hang back as a roadie for these shows. Trotting around in a nice shade of pink and having a physiology that also happens to be alien even by galactic standards doesn't lend well to camouflage."

"Trust me, everyone looks alien by galactic standards." He gave her a slight look, along with a raised eyebrow. "You can't even count on a standard of two-arms-two-legs-one-head half the time around here."

"Yeah, but there's a difference between being an alien spacefaring species and being a species that is still supposed to believe that you don't mess with 'star-chariots'."

"Point." He turned just long enough to look outside, before returning her attention to her. "Woah . . . I don't think I've seen that much brass, ever."

"Even after that whole conflict with Dr. Nefarious?"

Ratchet shook his head. "Not like this!"

Adaria glanced out herself, before remarking, "Eh, it's probably just because we've got a bunch of paper sergeants and petty officers out there instead of just the top trotters, and they're all here with their escorts, girlfriends, and assorted 'life partners'."

"Damn well hope so." Ratchet remarked before he glanced over at Dimitri, who was busy with his own conversation with Clank. "We could use at least one part of this mission going to plan."

"Hey guys!" Jigsaw cooed, coming out from what she was using for a dressing room. "Think this'll make the staff look twice?"

"Woah..." Ratchet blinked, looking at a radically different version of the slightly arrogant Jigsaw he'd grown used to. She had herself dolled up in pants that had a wide gap of lacing on either side, with a puffy, frilled shirt held in check against her body with a black bustier of similar design. Her eyes were covered in a dark purple eye shadow, with her piercings replaced by dangling star earrings, and the tips of her hair dyed to match her eyes. In short, she looked exactly like a rock star was supposed to look. "Damn, girl, where have you been hiding that outfit?"

"There's a lot of the ship we haven't shown you yet." Jigsaw winked, walking over to Dimitri and Clank. "Of course, it doesn't hurt to get a second opinion . . ."

Dimitri blinked, staring at her and dropping his jaw. She put it back into place as she walked past him. She smiled, grinning as Cypress walked over to Jigsaw with a pair of instrument cases. "Oh... I was going to ask which case you wanted, but I see you've already made that choice."

"Indeed. Hand me my baby and let's get this show started." Jigsaw spoke, her arm outstretched expectantly as Cypress handed her the guitar case. "Everyone, stand back, please."

Ratchet nodded, taking a step back before clapping a hand on Dimitri's shoulder and giving him a quick shake to inform him to back off as well. Jigsaw unbuckled her case to pull out an electric guitar, before grinning and walking towards the curtain.

She flung back the curtains with a flourish, holding out her guitar by the neck the way a pirate would swing a jar of rum, before whipping back her head and shouting "Are you ready, San Andreas?". Unfortunately, she only got that far before she felt the wave of emotion from the crowd wasn't quite what she expected.

Jigsaw glanced around as she noticed the unamused stares of the crowd, and the mental whispers she had to fight to block out, as these military types had been brought up in a way that they never even bothered blocking their emotions, and she winced as she felt them stabbing at her.

_Who does she think she is? — How disgusting, wearing so little to such a formal engagement! — I thought the Veldeese had SOME taste . . . — I was expecting violins! Who's this wench? — She looks like she should be working down in Red Glow, not here! _

"SHUT UP!" She snapped, hissing as she looked out at the crowd, before reaching back to grab her violin case, eyes tightly clasped shut while she carried her guitar and the violin in its case towards the stage at the center of the restaurant. She had to keep her guard up, couldn't let the crowd affect her, she'd put up with too much worse to allow herself to back down, regardless of the crowd's mood or whether her makeup started to run. Hell, if it did it probably would have helped the outfit right then anyway.

She put down the case as she stood up on the stage, looking out at the crowd, opening her eyes once again with a sneer on her face as she watched the crowd, looking for a cue, an opening, a gap in the groupthink; something, anything that she could cling onto for an anchor. She found it in a stunned Luke sitting near the stage, and she reached out for his beret, yanking it off.

"You!" She pointed at him, although the anger in her eyes had already started to melt off. "I thought you said they'd want to see me perform tonight! This crowd is about as willing as the average DreadZone contestant!"

This got a momentary laugh out of the crowd, alleviating more of Jigsaw's stress as Luke reached out for his beret, dusting it off. "Miss Forte, I wanted you to play tonight, granted, but I was under the impression you knew it was a formal affair."

This picked up a raised eyebrow from Jigsaw. "Do I look formal to you?"

"Not particularly, but I was still expecting violin music. I think this crowd was rather looking to it." Luke spoke, smiling and looking out at the crowd, who had now softened, but only slightly.

Jigsaw looked out at them, then back at Luke. "Sit back down, please." Luke nodded, stepping back off the stage, his eyes on Jigsaw. She glanced back at the crowd, their eyes still following her with a certain amount of suspicion and concern.

"All right then . . ." Jigsaw unlatched her case, pulling out a pristine violin, holding it high. "Who wants to hear some classical music?"

She glanced around, noting the round of polite applause she picked up, glancing around at the still too-well-behaved masses. This kind of stifling unison disturbed her; she was used to chatter. The silent uniformity kept her wanting to be on edge.

"Okay then . . . " She put the violin back, and pulled off the guitar on her back, hefting it high with both hands. "Who wants to actually REMEMBER tonight?"

Suddenly, the crowd became a whole lot more animated and spontaneous, earning a grin on her face as she saw several of the soldiers and officers lighting up with chords and tunes playing in their heads already. This one would be a whole lot more entertaining, for her as well as them.

"Excellent!" She smirked, adjusting her guitar into position, before latching onto the microphone. "In that case . . . Ladies-and-gentlemen, boys-and-girls, and-children-of-all-ages — _San Andreas_'s very own Airlock 25 is proud to present, for the very first time without pseudonyms . . . Jigsaw!"

After the first riff off of her guitar, the tension in the room just melted away as the crowd started to listen in, becoming more and more entranced as more of her music played on, quickly working throughout the room as even Ratchet found his head banging slightly to the beat. He started to slip into the rhythm when he noticed that Dimitri, rather than mellowing with the crowd, was becoming even more agitated.

"Woah, man . . . you okay?" Ratchet leaned over, trying to whisper in Dimitri's ear.

Dimitri gave Ratchet a look like he was crazy, holding his ear a bit, before crossing his legs and looking like he was trying to cover his lap. Ratchet blinked, before remembering that scene backstage with Jigsaw brushing past the scientist, as though she didn't realize how much she was flirting with him.

"Let's get you out of here. They'll be busy playing for so long you'd be bored stiff." Ratchet took hold of his arm, before looking up at Adari'a. "Hey, I'm gonna take Dimitri out for a walk. Can you let us know when we need to be heading back here?"

"You kidding? I'll come with you." Adari'a turned for the door, patting her flank. "Hop aboard, boys, just don't try to dislocate my spine this time around."

Ratchet smirked, pulling himself onto her back, and helping Dimitri to mount her as the centaur trotted into the corridors, moving at a smooth clip and a smoother ride on a brief tour of the ship. Ratchet just took in the sights as he lazily held onto a fold of fabric from Adari'a's shirt, letting the gentle trotting seep through him while Dimitri was looking around with great intent.

Soon after, though, Ratchet found himself coming to on the side of — no, check that, the floor of — something hard and metal, seeing Adari'a rear up in fright and run back to pick up Ratchet.

"What's going on? Did Dimitri say anything to you?" She spoke, cradling Ratchet in her arms as she started running again, this time at a harder clip than before.

"Wha'? No, course not, he don' talk . . ." Ratchet mumbled, slurring his words a little from the minor concussion.

"Not that! Damn it, when I'm done with him, I'm boxing your ears in as well!" She growled, picking up her pace. "Dimitri's a lot faster than I give him credit for though."

Dimitri dove into a crowd of shoppers from a nearby mall, slowing Adari'a down considerably, losing the Lombax quickly among the throngs of the taller shoppers blocking her line of sight. She groaned, a roar building up in her throat, and Ratchet finally started to come back to his senses as Adari'a let out a thunderous roar.

"Pardon me!" She spoke up right after, now that a path was clear, and Ratchet blinked, at first trying to cling to her chest, but then reached up to cling to her shoulders instead.

Ratchet latched on tightly, trying to see where she was going. "What the hell happened? Where's Dimitri?"

"That's why I'm running, damn it!" She hissed, still moving and following after him, or what she thought was him. "You fell asleep before Dimitri jumped off my back so I panicked and threw you off, and then your head hit the floor so I went back to get you, but-"

"Slow down, just tell me where Dimitri is."

"Just in front of us and gaining!" She snapped, hefting Ratchet a little higher so he could piggyback on her instead. Adari'a kept up her chase, but Dimitri rounded a corner, disappearing into a cloud of red fog. "Shit. I'm gonna get my head lopped off _again _. . . "

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "So we lost him. I'm sure even on a ship this size he can't get very far."

"Not that." Adari'a groaned, pulling out a pocket-sized holomap of the area. "He just ran into Red Glow, and Jigsaw said not to go in there."

Ratchet hopped off of her, staring into the fog. "Red Glow's where all the hookers work, isn't it?"

"They prefer to be called 'entertainers for hire', but yes . . ." Adari'a walked with him, pausing for a moment, before taking cautious steps through the fog. "Basically, if the ship's crew doesn't like it, it gets sent here. It's still illegal to do half the stuff in Red Glow, but the ship's intelligences don't alert the authorities unless something here 'rocks the boat' enough to warrant it."

"Interesting . . ." Ratchet smirked, then blinked as he remembered why he was out here in the first place. Dimitri could be anywhere in Red Glow with the head start he'd picked up . . .

After a few more steps, the fog ceded enough to reveal Red Glow in all its debauched glory. Neon signs flashed everywhere, with flags strewn across windows, half-dressed women in skimpy things sitting on benches and near lampposts, stores strewn with all kinds of media and apparel, often with live 'mannequins' in a few of these windows, including a blindfolded Lombax female waving as she stood in one window wearing the least legal interpretation of a bridal gown Ratchet had ever set eyes on, cooing "Book us for your next bachelor party! Don't worry, we won't tell the bride OR your mother-in-law!"

"Humina . . ." Ratchet stared, blinking, before Adari'a pulled him away from the window, scanning around the area.

The centaur grumbled, tugging on one of Ratchet's ears. "Try not to get too 'distracted'. We're here for only one thing, and once we get it, we're gone, you copy?"

"Easy for you to say." Ratchet muttered. "We don't even know where to look." He glanced around, before looking down at one of the few men milling around in the area. "Hey, you, think you can help us with something?"

"Sure thing, pal. Looking for some of that sweet weed?" The man leaned in towards him, opening his jacket a little. "Just rolled a fresh batch."

"Pass." Ratchet shot back, looking away, and then glancing back to say, "I'm looking for a friend."

The man smiled. "Sure, pal, we all are . . . her name wouldn't happen to be Mary Jane, would it?"

"Dimitri."

The dealer frowned. "I've not heard that name before. And even if it's what I think that means, I don't deal in meth. Working in space is dangerous enough without getting your ass blown up."

"Wasn't asking for it. Thanks anyway." Ratchet frowned, before shooting back at Adari'a, "Swear, if he's actually gone into Red Glow, I don't know what he'd want here. Feels like I'm in a reenactment of _Sodom and Gomorrah_."

The centaur chuckled. "So which one are you calling yourself, then?"

"Eh, I'll say Gomorrah. I'm mildly certain I'll be screwed by the end of the night anyway once Jigsaw finds out what happened." Ratchet muttered to himself, crawling back onto Adari'a as she walked through Red Glow, noting the stores of fetish apparel among the bars and dance joints. "We either need to find Dimitri soon or admit we lost him."

Adari'a nodded. "Shame we can't just call out for him. You'd think a guy like that would have a pager set to vibrate for times like this."

"That's it!" Ratchet perked up, standing on Adari'a's shoulders to look around. "There! Head for that bar!"

Adari'a nodded, catching Ratchet in her arms as she trotted over to the bar. "What makes you think he'd go into a bar for 'Strip Pulse Revolution'?"

"Emphasis on the 'Pulse' part. Unlike normal Revolution machines, these machines have wearable pulse-packs that go with the beat. Since Dimitri wouldn't be able to follow the music on the machines otherwise . . ."

"Aha!" She smirked, opening the door. "You're a genius!"

Just as she stepped inside, however, a pair of regulars were causing a minor riot at the machines, where one scantily-dressed Vidian was running off to the back rooms with half of her clothes falling off. Ratchet blinked, jumping down to the floor to try and see what was going on.

"He's cheating! 'Never heard that song' my ass!" Someone roared as she pulled a body away from the machine. "I saw him tapping out patterns before the battery stage!"

Ratchet blinked, running for the Zillan that he spotted in the fray as he realized that she was jerking Dimitri about like a rag doll. She turned around and blinked, still holding Dimitri high by a leg, and she looked down at Ratchet, not impressed. "Out of the way, mouse. Your buddy here's about to get his ears pursed if you don't."

"I'm only going to say this once. Put Dimitri down before I have to hurt you." Ratchet glared, standing his ground.

She glared, looking down at him. "You trying to end up pursed too?"

Ratchet glared, before reaching behind his back to pull out the pulse rifle he had in storage. "Give me the Lombax, and nobody gets hurt."

She dropped Dimitri on top of Ratchet, leaving Adari'a to pick both of them up. The Zillan glared at both of them, eyes narrow, adjusting her red pleather outfit as she glared down at the centaur.

Adari'a narrowed her eyes at the surly regular, looking up at her. "It's not very wise to threaten anyone with a pursing. I'm sure you would make a fine pair of shoes by the same notion."

"Now would I?" She glared, looking down at the centaur. "Tell you what, pussy . . . you look familiar to me, but I'm not sure from what, so I'll be nice. You get a five minute head start to get out of Red Glow before we chase you out."

"Thank you." Adari'a hissed, turning around with both Lombaxes still in her arms. "Let's go, boys. That's enough temptation for one night."

She froze as she heard a hiss from behind her though. "Time's up!"

"You said five minutes!" Adari'a growled.

"You get five minutes. The gun-toter and the cheater get five seconds. Either way, you're all about to find out the hard way why nobody fucks over Paris Ventura!" The Zillan hissed, as Adari'a bolted for the door. "Sic 'em, girls!"


	25. We'll Always Have Paris

_Come Monday she's all business far as anyone can see,  
She walks a line, dots her i's, and crosses all her t's,  
Everybody thinks she's too up tight to be true,  
But all along she's sitting on a Blood Red Rose tattoo . . ._

- "When She's Good, She's Good" by Clay Walker

**Chapter 24  
We'll Always Have Paris**

* * *

Jigsaw's head snapped towards a doorway as the doors in one corner of the room burst open, the officers and guests there going into a panic. Adari'a leapt over two tables and crawled under a third as she plowed her way towards the stage, heading for Jigsaw, whose eyes were now wide with a little bit of panic and a lot of disgust. 

"What the hell?" Jigsaw shouted, yanking off her guitar and hefting it over one shoulder. "Adari'a, what'd you do?"

"HIDE ME!" Addy shouted, before dropping Ratchet and Dimitri at Jigsaw's feet, hiding behind the Lombax, trying to look as small as possible, which only served to make a few people laugh at her pathetic attempt.

"Hide you?" Jigsaw blinked, trying to make sense of the three panicked minds in front of her. "Can this at least wait until I finish my set properly?"

"Ventura said she'd purse Dimitri's ears and then she said she'd do Ratchet's and she chased us out and we're _really really_ sorry we didn't mean to go into Red Glow it's all Dimitri's fault!"

"You what?" Jigsaw glared, before looking down at Dimitri. "I hope you got a really good story out of this for my trouble."

A few moments later, there was a knocking on the doors that Adari'a had just burst through, followed by them opening just enough for Paris to get her head inside, glancing around. "So sorry to interrupt, officers . . . We have a few disorderlies who decided to leave my precious Chelle's bar without settling their debts."

"You chased us out!" Ratchet shot back, before standing up and saying to Jigsaw. "She's not really wanting to purse us, is she?"

"Your ears will be left bleeding either way if you try to go that route . . ." Jigsaw whispered back, before speaking up. "Miss Ventura, I'm sure this was all a great big misunderstanding . . ."

Paris narrowed her eyes, before opening the door wide to let in a slightly smaller Zillan girl, as well as at least five Vidians, all dressed in suitably minimal attire. "Listen good, little rodent; I don't take kindly to cheaters, or to people who whip out their weapons in my daughter's bar. Now unless you want to get your friends in even worse trouble, I suggest you see how reasonable my original terms were."

"You must be joking." Jigsaw glared back. "Listen . . . I've put up with a lot worse, and my friends here can attest to that. Now, unless you need me to get Cypress out here to she can speak lizard with you . . . Actually, you know what? Maybe I should get her out here anyway. Gives you someone your own size to argue with."

"Try me."

A quick whistle later, and Cypress stormed out from behind the backstage area, heading for Paris. Just before she came too close, though, Paris blinked, taking a few steps back, prompting Cypress to glare at her. "What?"

"That necklace." Paris pointed down at Cypress's necklace. "Where did you get it?"

"Gift from my father. Why would you care?" Cypress raised an eyebrow.

Paris breathed in a bit, almost in disbelief. "So . . . you're meant to be Cypress Vox? I thought you were dead."

"Common mistake." Cypress smirked. "Now, if you'll be so kind as to lay off of my companions, we just might have an understanding."

The younger Zillan tugged on Paris's vest. "Come on, Mom."

"Not so fast." Paris held out a tattooed arm, shielding her daughter. "So they're under your protection? I need proof."

This earned a raised eyebrow from Cypress. "How much proof do you need? I'm already standing right here."

Paris turned her body to the side, pointing to the tattoo on her arm — two sideswept swoops, paired up with a dot and a crown. "You know what I want to see. Now either show me the mark or back down."

Cypress frowned, baring her teeth for a moment. Soonafter, however, she knelt down, adjusting herself before pulling up her skirt to reveal a generous portion of her right thigh, and upon that thigh in black ink she had the same symbol on her necklace — a circle, surrounded by three long triangles into the 'V' shape, with a similar crown mark upon the top of it.

Paris nodded, and several of the nearby officers whistled, although the whistling made Cypress glare at them with an uneasy eye. After making sure that Paris had seen it, Cypress lowered her skirt, and she stood back up. "Satisfied?"

"Very much, Miss Vox." Paris smirked. "Chelle, lead the girls back to the bar. I'm going to have a nice, cozy understanding with our young Matriarch here."

"Matriarch . . .? Cypress blinked, doing a double take. "Did I just . . . I mean, how did you-?"

"New to the game, 'precious'? Tell you what; once your rodent friend up there finishes up her show, bring yourself and the rest of your conclave out to meet me at the hangar." Paris smirked. "We've got some history to cover with you."

With that, Paris walked off with a wave to the rest of the room, leaving Cypress to stand there, blinking. Ratchet walked up to her, tugging on her skirt. "Hey, what was all that about? How'd that mark get her to back down?"

Cypress had a confused stare on her face, not looking at Ratchet. "I think I just pulled rank."

_Five songs and an encore later . . . _

"Woo!" Jigsaw howled, her guitar still slung on her back and her makeup slightly smeared, as the gang of them were walking back in the corridors. "You know, I'm still not sure I get what you guys were doing out in Red Glow in the first place, but that whole scene with Ventura . . . damn that just put new life in the room! That was enough emotion to keep me buzzing for the rest of the week!"

"Well, I'm glad you like it. I need some pants." Cypress shot back, looking a little uneasy.

"Huh?" Jigsaw blinked, veering a little closer. "But you hate pants."

"Then I need to cut a hole in these or something." Cypress replied, tugging at her skirt. "I don't know what happened back there, and I don't like not knowing."

Ratchet shook his head. "You know what happened back there. That tattoo of yours, right?"

"But I don't get why!" Cypress remarked again, one hand over her right hip. "Dad-, er, Gleeman said he'd had that tattoo put on me at birth, but he never mentioned why — kept saying I'd figure it out when I got older."

Jigsaw shrugged. "Paris didn't get close enough for me to tell what she was thinking. Best as I can figure, it's a lizard thing."

Jigsaw blinked as she heard a chuckling from the open hangar, before a faraway voice spoke, "Oh, that's one way to put it . . ."

Cypress raised an eyebrow before looking out into the hangar. Paris was standing out there, along with her daughter Chelle from earlier. Cypress stepped forward first, followed soon after by the others. Cypress kept her eyes narrow, still somewhat suspicious. "What did you want, Paris?"

"Miss Vox, I think you're the one that's doing the wanting here." Paris smiled, looking over at her. "After all, you want answers to a lot of questions. You want to know why I was so kind to back down after you identified yourself, you want to know how I knew to ask for that tattoo of yours, and I'm fairly sure there's at least one other question on your mind."

"Well, then, you should start talking." Cypress glared. "How you know me, for starters."

Paris smiled. "That's an easy one. Did your father ever tell you where your cousin Nate 'really' came from?"

Jigsaw blinked, running across a visual image that made her shudder. "Figures. First halfway decent relative of yours we come across, and she's a porn star."

"Actress!" Paris snapped, much to Chelle's visible chagrin. "If it makes you feel better, my relations with your late uncle Rupert were very much an 'off-camera' affair; I know better than that, honestly. I found out why he wanted to keep it that way when I discovered he'd already married that Marie Cytanol bitch."

"Not soon enough, apparently . . ." Cypress remarked offhandedly.

Paris chuckled. "What can I tell you? I was already the Ventura Matriarch by then, so I figured that the best revenge was to force his hand. Unfortunately for him, when I showed up at his doorstep with Nate, he decided to take Nate for himself and spurned me off for being a 'whore'. He paid for Nate and his insolence dearly, of course . . . eventually."

Miss Vox narrowed her eyes, somehow having switched over quickly to anger. "The explosion at the refinery."

"A terrible accident all the way around. My condolences to your side of the family, but the Matriarch's Curse exacts an unfortunate amount of collateral damage when it finally decides to kick in." Paris remarked. "Not that I particularly cared outside of a passing notice when I heard; I'd already decided to have my dear Chelle here instead by then, and since Nate stayed safe, it made sense to let your father and aunt take care of him rather than try to fight inheritance law."

Clank raised a hand, walking up. "Ms. Ventura, I'm not sure what this has to do with tonight's incident."

"Oh, that's a cute little bolt-box you've got there." Paris giggled, picking Clank up. "But as far as it has to do with tonight . . . Tell me, Miss Vox, do you know what that mark on your leg is about?"

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't born with it, if that's what you mean."

"You may as well have been." Paris grinned. "It's your family's seal, just like mine, and it's the mark of your pedigree. More to the point," Paris turned to show hers again, tapping on the small crown just above the rest of the tattoo, "Since your grandmother had long since 'moved on', you were the eldest woman by blood, making you born into your role as Matriarch. From what I heard about the refinery incident, it's why you survived."

"I survived because of my mother . . ." Cypress hissed, eyes shut, trying to block out the memory. Jigsaw just winced, since despite the repression, she was picking up on it a little too well — a flash of heat, a plume of fire, a trio of toddlers being carried out to supposed safety . . . the kind of painful memory blurred over time for her own good.

"Your mother did well, but unfortunately she had to settle for surviving through your spirit than her own. As I mentioned before, karma has very bad aim." Paris sighed, before continuing, "At any rate, you were born into the position of Matriarch, but of course, you were young, tiny, naive . . . you had to wait until you were grown up to really appreciate such a role. Of course, something prevented that."

Cypress nodded, picking up on the clue. "DreadZone happened."

"Exactly." Paris took a small breath, before standing up and reaching over to snare Cypress in a big hug. "I'm so glad you made it out of there alive! And managed to lay your first curse rather well, I see . . ."

"I resent that." Ratchet remarked, glancing up at the two. "This Lombax is _nobody's_ curse!"

"You get my point, though. There's a lot of superstition as well as responsibility that goes into being a Matriarch, and the sooner you understand this, the better." Paris smiled. "I could use an ally like you now and then. Tell you what; make sure you get silver-ears and his friends to behave, and you've got free rein in my Chelle's bar as long as you're here."

Cypress grinned, and Ratchet took this as a cue to speak up. "Just one question, Paris . . ."

"Shoot."

"You said Dimitri swore he'd 'never heard' a certain song . . . isn't a dumb question to ask him, period?"

"He handed me a note saying-! Oh, Goddess, I can't believe I fell for that one in the first place . . ." Paris shook her head, having a minor chuckle. "Tell you what, an extra pair of drinks for you two for cunning."


	26. Ratcheting up the Gears

_I'm not someone that you should run to.  
I've been, often, as broken as you,  
(more often than you'd like me to)  
I wish that I could help you.  
I can't even help myself.  
It seems you need a saving grace and a savior's something I'm not . . ._

- "Wake Up Call" by A.F.I.

**Chapter 25  
Ratcheting up the Gears**

* * *

"Come on, one more, damn it!" Ratchet hissed, leaned up against the support bars as he glanced over at Dimitri from across the Revolution pads, his finger high. "I'll whip you at this yet!" 

Dimitri fired off a quick series of gestures, which led Clank to speak up. "Ratchet, I think you should reconsider."

Ratchet smirked. "What, is he scared yet?"

Clank shook his head. "Actually, he's saying he's already beaten you so many rounds that if you try any further, he'll beat the pants off of you. Literally."

"Man . . ." Ratchet blinked, looking down at his lack of shirt, shoes, belt, and even gloves. Even his leather cap was sitting in the pile just behind Dimitri. "Still missing entirely too much muscle mass after DreadZone . . ."

Clank nodded. "So, had enough for tonight?"

"No way, I've still got boxers on." Ratchet remarked, before stretching the hem of his pants to check. "No, scratch that, going commando here . . ."

"Ratchet, please, I'll pay for you NOT to play any more!" Cypress called out from her spot near the bar. "And besides, aren't you two supposed to be heading back to the hangar soon anyway? Jigsaw wanted your help in the engine room after you two sobered up."

"If he's still willing to play his pants off at this point, he is way too far from sober. Let him keep going." Paris remarked, sitting next to her. "You don't want those two working on 2nd-order calculus in that state."

Cypress smirked, standing up as she adjusted the new pair of cut-away jeans she'd picked up, showing off her tattoo — now that she knew what it meant, it gave her an extra sense of pride somehow. "I know, I know, that whole 'friends don't let friends derive drunk' stuff. But come on, their tiny bodies have to metabolize it faster, right?"

Paris shrugged, watching Ratchet run through the list of songs on the machine, with Dimitri standing there with a smug look on his face, not to mention all of his clothes still on. In the end, he gave Ratchet a quick pat on the back, heading over to Paris and Cypress as he unstrapped the pulse pack from his shoulder, handing it off to one of the waitresses before jumping up into Cypress's lap.

"I think this one's sober at least." Cypress chuckled, giving Dimitri a quick scratch behind an ear.

Paris shook her head. "Nah, it's just harder to tell with the mutes. Everyone looks smarter when they shut up."

Dimitri smiled, pleased with himself, leaning further into Cypress, who just kept a hand on him to stroke his hair. "Doesn't matter too much now . . . I'm kinda glad we ended up coming here; past few days have really mellowed everyone out. We were all tensed up about the ship problems, the whole 'CosmoGear' conspiracy, and the-"

"About that." Paris spoke up, tapping Cypress's snout to cut you off. "Cypress, sweetie, I know you're a big girl and everything, but I'm going to give you my two cents on this — it's a trap."

Miss Vox's tone of voice changed immediately. "What?"

"First off, don't give me that look; if I was going to spring a trap on you I would've done it when your boys pissed me off in the beginning." Paris raised an eyebrow. "Secondly, I'm referring to this CosmoGear stuff. Now, you've shown me the video, which is fine, but the damn thing reeks of a setup, starting with the voice acting in that clip."

"We already figured out it was dubbed in." Cypress shrugged. "Dimitri verified the transcript."

Paris shook her head. "Please don't tell me you're that stupid. If it was dubbed in, someone thought the lines were important enough to redo, and that means that they were expecting some actual information to be portrayed. Actual police evidence uses subtitles, not dubbing, otherwise it's tampering with the evidence. And on top of that, there's two really good reasons why the dubbing should make you suspicious."

Paris scribbled out a quick note, handing it to Dimitri, who sat up, nervously glancing up at Cypress, then Paris. Cypress gave her aunt a strange look, not entirely certain what to make of what was going on.

Dimitri gulped, holding the note up nervously. "Der . . . derisa . . ."

Ratchet blinked, stopping his set to turn around in disbelief. Even Clank's eyes shot up in shock. Dimitri was paying too much attention to the note to notice them, however, and he continued on, his otherwise precocious voice shaking. "Derisa vere . . . ver-reh . . . gureeson . . . whe . . . wheh ay . . ."

"That's enough. Thanks, little fellow." Paris smiled, giving Dimitri a small handshake before taking the note out of his hands. Cypress just looked down at Dimitri, stunned. "Reason one: the deaf can talk, they just prefer not to. They're entirely too self-conscious about how they think their voices sound, and when you can't even tell how well you're doing something, you've got no good reason to find out unless it's an emergency, which is why they learn to talk in the first place. Simply put, I think 'having a door crush your GI tract' is emergency enough to justify shouting out a few orders, if only because he was kind of using his arms to support himself."

Cypress blinked, looking down at Dimitri in disbelief. "So he can talk, at least a little."

"I recommend teaching him at least how to say your friend's names just in case the situation needs it, but don't expect him to start quoting Tolkien." Paris shrugged. "Anyway, reason two; I could tell right away from that video that Nate was playing 'Newton' in that tape; I wouldn't be shocked if Damien was playing your friend in it as well."

Miss Vox flinched, her head jerking back. "I think I'd have recognized their voices better."

"I would know Nate's voice anywhere, sweetie. Call it Mother's Intuition, if you will." Paris remarked, before her face changed to one of worry. "Did I say something?"

"It's not making sense . . . first we thought they were just running, then we thought it was this 'mind-mapping' device, now you're telling me my cousins . . . wait one minute, my _cousins_ . . . Dammit, this _is_ a trap!"

"Thank you!" Paris sighed, dropping her neck back over the bar. "I swear, I'm glad as hell you have some intelligence in you . . ."

"No, this just brings up a new set of questions." Cypress groaned. "Who was that tape intended for, just how much of that 'ambush' back on Quartu was planned before we even got there, why would they have even let Dimitri attempt to kill himself if they were planning this to begin with, was it related to the little 'evidence' surprise they had sprung on us when we got here . . . and quite simply, how much longer is it safe for us to stay on this ship? For all we know, there's a mechanic in the hangar right now who's slipped inside someplace a nice 5-gigaton 'present' set up to explode when we take off!"

"Damn . . ." Ratchet blinked. "When you go, you really go, don't you?"

"Don't knock it, Ratchet. I've made it through the last three years by being paranoid and I ain't stopping now." Cypress snapped, before setting Dimitri back onto the floor. "I swear to Goddess, when I get my hands on those two brats next, I'm so going to-"

"Mom!" Chelle barked up, interrupting Cypress. "Gears on Line One! You want to go in the back or take it here?"

"Courtney?" Ratchet blinked.

"No, her baby 'bot Britney. Of course Courtney!" Chelle snapped, glancing back over at her mother. "Mom, tell me where to stuff her!"

Clank narrowed his eyes. "I know where to tell Courtney to stuff her-!"

"I'll take it right here." Paris responded, before looking back at Ratchet and Clank and saying, "You three keep out of the camera and stay quiet. Friends of my niece or not, I've still got an image here."

Cypress blinked, then found herself being side-hugged by Paris as the nearby projection screen sprang to life, with Courtney Gears standing there and looking like she hadn't skipped a beat. "Hey there, _mon cheri_! How's my favorite scaly?"

"Same old, same old . . . glad to see that the rehab's treated you well." Paris smirked, softening her hold on Cypress. "Don't suppose we'll be seeing another video from you soon?"

"About as much chance of that as you starring in another film." Courtney smirked, receiving a hard glare from Paris for her trouble. "Joking, joking! You don't look a day over thirty . . ."

"Don't toy with me." Paris snapped back. "Don't suppose there's a reason you wanted to talk with me? After all, I do have some family time I've been meaning to catch up on."

"Oh, just the usual; you know, networking, seeking out new film roles-."

"-. Honey, I don't suggest that kind of work for your career right now. Coaxial penetration would just kill your image."

"Not that kind of role!" Courtney responded in short order, causing Ratchet to double over in fits of silent laughter. "Besides, you know I'll only take USB."

Paris coughed, before glancing back up at the screen. "Seriously now . . ."

"All right, all right . . . don't mean to burn your daughter's 'virgin' ears . . . Honestly, I just wanted to talk, and you're the only associate of mine within range right now. The ship I'm on isn't allowing a trans-galactic connection for some reason; hell, I'm not even supposed to be speaking with you, but I was just going nuts and bolts here by myself!"

"Been there, done that." Paris nodded. "Sounds like a dodgy setup."

"Well, I don't really blame them . . . we're alone right now, right?"

Paris looked around, noting Clank and Dimitri desperately trying to keep a giggly Ratchet under control, then at the door near Chelle's position, and finally back at the screen. "Just me and my flesh and blood."

"Good, because you have to swear not to let this get out . . . I'm on the _Divine Avarice _right now. Miss Avon wants me as the host for _Cirque du Mortis_!"

Cypress's face fell, but Paris's beamed. "That's great!" Paris spoke up. "A real solid role. You'll be back in music videos in no time!"

"I know! They're really hush about it though . . ." Courtney shrugged. "They must be trying to keep the deal secret until the show starts up. I'm not really sure what they've got in store, but there's this huge fleet I'm traveling with, and the place is just buzzing with plans . . . I think it's a recruitment tour of some kind. I recognize a few of the ships as old DreadZone transports."

"Strange, that . . ." Paris blinked. "I thought they were trying to shed that connection."

Courtney rolled her eyes. "They've been painted over, but that's next to nothing. You know a DreadZone ship when you see it, trust me on that one. But there's that, and there's been a lot of talk about organics . . . can't say much there except that I'm hoping to get my hands on an old 'friend' of mine . . . after all, I think adding some fur to my wardrobe would help my appearance on the show, don't you think?"

"I'm not a big fan of fur myself, but I could see it on you, sure." Paris shrugged, while Ratchet's expression stilled itself upon comprehending that. "I think we better stop here; after all, if this is hush-hush, we don't want you getting caught."

"Oh, of course! Later, Pari'!" Courtney blew a kiss to the screen before signing off, and immediately after the feed cut, the bar became a whole lot noisier.

"Secret communication my ass!" Ratchet barked.

"That does seem quite suspicious of her to drop such information in our laps." Clank remarked, a hand on his chin.

"There's no way, absolutely no way this can be tied to you." Paris rolled her eyes. "She even mistook Cypress for Chelle, for Goddess's sake. Speaking of which, you looked so much cuter before you became a blonde . . ."

"Thank you, but fuck . . . FUCK!" Cypress seethed. "I don't know what to think right now. . . ."

"Well think faster!" Ratchet shot up to standing, pushing Dimitri to the ground in his haste, while Clank walked towards the bar. "Either that was planned, or Courtney's in big trouble for doing that much. She just gave away her position and on top of that, pretty much admitted that her ship and a whole mess of others are on their way to Veldin, and they're not up to any good."

"Making the leap in logic between 'picking up Dimitri' and '_Gangrel_ being fingered with bad evidence' isn't a huge leap in logic, now that we know they were waiting to spring a trap on whoever was foolish enough to go get him." Clank spoke as he scaled a barstool. "Making the leap between the _Gangrel _being intercepted and Paris being in the position to give us information isn't a logical step at all. Either this was an accident, or we need to be more paranoid than we thought because someone is clearly keeping tabs on us."

"Like I'd ever help a Vox! Er, besides you now, of course." Paris chuckled, giving Cypress a quick nuzzle on the neck. "As for Courtney, she's not that smart, even for a robot. You'll notice she wanted the secrecy about the show details, not about dropping hints as to whatever they've got planned. Dumb B.S.O.D. must've let it slip out after the fact just so she could ask about the fur trim."

"Fine, so we know she just 'accidentally' gave us information on the Vox Empire's next plans. The next question is what to make of it." Cypress sighed, glancing over at Ratchet. "It's your call."

Ratchet dusted himself of, gritting his teeth a bit. "Tell Jigsaw to prepare for an invasion and see what forces we can get out of this plate. If that communication came from where I think it did, Courtney's ship'll have to swing past our current position to get to Veldin. If we can gather a fleet together within the next . . . oh, I'd say 48 to 72 hours, we'll intercept them just as they coast through this system. it's not a great plan, but it beats an orbital defense from Veldin and it'll give us a chance to weaken the Vox fleet in case we end up needing an orbital interception after all."

Clank nodded, checking the communication protocols next to Chelle. "Your hypothesis seems valid, Ratchet. Their current trajectory suggests they'll be in close enough range for us to launch an offensive from the _San Andreas_."

"Can you guys even do that?" Cypress appeared stunned. "I thought you needed more time to mobilize the Galactic Rangers. Or at least some solid evidence. I know they're pretty clear about the evidence part."

"Jigsaw's the damned protectorate and I'm certain about a third of the plate is covered in Lombaxes as is; if there's not enough of them enlisted already to make a state fleet, the rest'll volunteer fast enough." Ratchet shot back. "With a state fleet, we can be in the air almost immediately and we won't have to answer to galactic brass. And quite frankly, if we end up screwing the pooch because the Vox Fleet by some miniscule chance ends up being 'harmless' civilians . . . it'll be a lot easier to keep it on a planetary scale than a galactic one."

Cypress sighed, nodding. "So that's it, eh?"

"Yeah. Clank, see if you can't find out just what we're dealing with in terms of fleet size and strength. I'm not giving these guys any more of an advantage than we have to." Ratchet shot back, before shaking his head. "Cypress, do me a favor and break the news to Jigsaw. I don't want her shooting the messenger, and quite frankly, I've got to get my clothes back on."


	27. Operation: Crimson Stars

_I'm fighting for freedom  
I'm safe, I've got God on my side  
With what poisoned rights  
Can you justify your battle hymn  
The general says we'll win the war  
Just sacrifice a thousand more . . ._

- "Power and the Glory" by Saxon

**Chapter 26  
Operation: Crimson Stars**

* * *

"The mission's about as simple as 'ambushing a convoy' gets." Jigsaw spoke up, a holographic representation popping up in front of the huddled circle of a dozen odd Lombax officers, who had spaced themselves out among Ratchet and his friends. "We've got more ships, but unfortunately for us, we're the smaller swarm. It's roughly six dozen odd fighters, half a dozen dragon- and courier-class ships, and my _Gangrel _up against a fleet of . . . well, fairly put, they're just plain larger. The _DreadNought_ and _Divine Avarice_ alone will give us hell, but in order to get past them, we've got to take out the littler parts of the fleet first." 

Jigsaw glanced back at the fleet hologram, a nervous look on her face that she was having a hard time hiding. It was one thing to lead a ragtag squad through DreadZone, or even the minor freedom force she managed to whip up to stop those transports on Veldin, but this wasn't her specialty. She glanced over at Ratchet, who picked up on her nervousness just enough to speak up. "There's more to this, isn't there?"

"We do have a complication to tend to." Jigsaw tapped on the hologram of the _Divine Avarice,_ popping up a secondary hologram of Courtney Gears. "Unfortunately, thanks to how we acquired this information on the fleet in the first place, we know she's still on board and regardless of whatever opinions we have about scantily-clad robot divas, she's a civilian and as long as we have this knowledge the press will roast us alive — especially me — if we shoot the _Avarice_ down with her still aboard."

She glanced at Ratchet, a minor smirk on her face. "I think you're the one best suited for her retrieval. Unfortunately, I'll be a little too busy with commanding the fleet to come with you."

"You remind me of Captain Quark when you say that . . ."

"Don't _ever _compare me to him!" Jigsaw growled, before continuing, "And I'm serious. I'll be running the troops around with the _Gangrel_, Adari'a will be busy with Big Al in the Engine room to keep the ship primed and armed, and Cypress won't fit in your ship."

"All right, all right . . ." Ratchet rolled his eyes, before looking at Clank. "Looks like it's back to the old blast and grind for us, eh, buddy?"

"Unfortunately, I will not be able to assist you this time, Ratchet." Clank spoke up, causing Ratchet's eyes to go wide. "Dimitri has requested my assistance during the upcoming combat."

Ratchet blinked, shocked. "Come on, we always do this sort of thing together. It's just not the same without you."

Dimitri pounded his chest, before signing out a few gestures, to which Clank nodded. "Since we're expecting a hard fight as it is, Dimitri is needed for field repair to keep the shields on those fighters operational for as long as he can. Since he is unable to use the audio communicators, I need to go with him as a relay to prevent him from stranding himself."

"You're serious?" Jigsaw blinked. "I'm all for whatever gives us an extra advantage, but it's going to be damned dangerous space-walking out there like you seem to suggest."

"Dimitri is small enough to slip through most radar systems, and besides . . . he wants to do this. He thinks it will be more beneficial than whatever menial tasks you can give him aboard this ship otherwise, since he's unable to pilot one of the fighters on his own." Clank spoke up.

One of the officers glanced up at her. "We _could_ use the extra defensive power . . ."

Jigsaw nodded, a nervous smile still on her face. "All right. Clank, if anything happens to Dimitri out here, it's your motherboard, you hear me?"

"I will do my best to keep Dimitri safe." Clank spoke up, before turning to Ratchet. "I'm sorry I won't be able to help you with Miss Gears . . ."

"It's all right, Clank." Ratchet sighed, shaking his head just a bit. "Just be careful out there, okay, little buddy?"

Clank nodded, before reaching forward to hug Ratchet, and the two held each other for a moment. The relative silence was broken up by one officer shouting out. "Come on, lads, there's enough time for sentimental moments AFTER we blow Vox out of the sky! We're almost in range!"

"You heard him; it's time to put _Operation: Crimson Stars_ into action. To your troops!" Jigsaw shouted out, and soon after the officers started to scatter, heading for the docking bay while Jigsaw stayed put where she was, glancing over at Ratchet and Dimitri. _Both of you, please be careful out there. I don't like losing friends . . . I really don't._

Dimitri nodded, casually tossing Clank onto his back before walking off to get his armor on. Ratchet just sighed at the two of them before walking towards his ship.

Ratchet just seemed to go through the motions of suiting up and slipping into his fighter ship, his eyes glassy and barely noticing the few other captains and lieutenants around him. A quick burst of Nanotech seemed to perk him up, though, and slip him back into his focus. He had to keep himself focused on his mission — rescuing Courtney Gears, whether she wanted to be or not.

A few quick breaths was all it took to zen him out before the bay doors opened, and Ratchet flew out of the Gangrel's mouth, trying to get a quick visual of the scene ahead of him. A few of the dragon-class ships had already charged ahead, fighters flanking them as Ratchet flew out, determined to get himself 'lost' in the skirmish without firing so that the enemy ships wouldn't give him as hard a time once he landed on the _Divine Avarice_.

Flying without fighting took to be a little more difficult than he had hoped for, though, and Ratchet was finding himself rather tangled into the fray when Clank's voice crackled over the communicator. "Ratchet, fly in close to the _Webster_. We have some cargo on your back."

Ratchet blinked, then came in close enough to see a trio of armored Lombax soldiers leaping off of his ship and onto the _Webster_, including one with a shiny, silver back-wart he knew all too well. With a brief gunning of his thrusters, he blasted away from the trio, aiming for his true target.

Strangely enough, the _Divine Avarice_ looked like it should have been a personal ship, with its bright paint job of reds and whites. Aside from the large propulsion hoop near the back, the ship had a slim profile, which hopefully meant Ratchet would have an easy time figuring out where Ms. Gears was located on it.

Slipping his cloaking on and hoping to blend in as long as he could, he skimmed along the surface of the _Avarice_, gingerly entering one of its docking 'gills' before landing inside the craft. He had to try and remember where he'd parked himself, after all, if he had any hope of making it out of here.

He crawled out of his ship, trying to look around and see just how much attention he'd attracted so far; for right now, very little, since ships were flying in and out of the gills constantly right now. With enough luck, he could-.

"Hey, you!"

_Crap_, Ratchet thought to himself, turning towards the shouting, and blinking as he saw what seemed like a monster to him. A bright red Lombax walked up, but his face was pale and furless, almost reminding him of a human; in fact, most of the creature's body looked to be human, though his hands and feet were familar enough. Even his tail seemed rather naked except for a plume on the end. "Damn it, man, what's with your helmet? You're supposed to be wearing your visor! I can't even see your face!"

"Shrapnel damage, sir." Ratchet eeked out, nervous. "My visor cracked and I needed to protect myself."

"Well don't just stand there, man; the supply room's right over there. Get out of that heavy gear and slip into your uniform!" The apparent officer scowled, pointing towards the room. "We've got enough trouble with this ambush without rag-tag rookies like you breaking protocol!"

Ratchet scrambled, running for the supply room while the officer shook his head. Ratchet groaned, but decided that as long as the crew on here looked at least half-Lombax, he couldn't go too wrong . . . one rush on the supply room later, and Ratchet pocketed his armor, dressing as fast as he could into his new 'uniform', checking himself out in the mirror.

He'd had to use the long-sleeved wear to hide his fur, along with a snug cowl to make his ears look less connected to the rest of his face and head, but that on top of a red flack vest, red cargo pants, and black boots, he could almost blend in. Unfortunately, he'd need to keep the tinted face visor on in hopes that maybe if no one looked at him close 'enough', he could pass for having a shaved face like the officer's, and the long wear was a little 'too big' to look right, but if all it took to avoid a big to-do was to dress like the enemy long enough to grab Courtney and go, all the better by him.

Ratchet smirked and strolled out of the supply closet, trying to stay at a smooth clip to prevent attracting attention to himself. With any luck, he'd be able to at least search the ship long enough to find Courtney and get her out of here.

"Hey, someone looks like they need a new razor!" One of the other soldiers chuckled. "It looks like puberty hit you right in the face!"

"I'll get to it after this fight's over. Crazy stuff outside, isn't it?" Ratchet remarked, pointing upwards and trying desperately to sound casual.

"Yeah, man. Dahlia must be pissed off like nobody's business; this is the first time she's left the Hobbits running the ship." The soldier chuckled a bit, scratching one of his large blonde ears. "Got any clue what they want? We've not even seen flags flying."

"No idea." Ratchet chuckled, lying through his teeth. "Is Courtney down this way? I'm pretty sure she'll want some extra protection if these clowns don't disappear soon."

The soldier nodded, but shook his head, putting out an arm. "Don't even try to talk to her. Word on the ship is that the dumb BSOD is in a lot of trouble . . . you don't want to even look like you had anything to do with that mess."

With that, the soldier jogged off, and Ratchet kept going on his way. Maybe with the extra trouble surrounding her, she'd be a lot more pliable to return with him.

Ratchet glanced down one hallway, spotting what looked to be a female robot standing among a few more of the weird half-Lombax, half-human soldiers — 'Hobbits', going by that last fellow — when a chiming on the intercom distracted him.

"- to Delta Alpha Alpha! We've got Rover and Charlie in our sights!" "Don't toy with me! Ratchet's not that stupid!" "Bravo Niner, if you use Rover's name again I'm shaving you myself!"

Ratchet jumped in his skin, ducking behind the corner again, looking around in a cold sweat of panic. He knew this uniform was too transparent to be a good disguise! If he could tell where they were coming from, maybe he could switch armor back just fast enough to-.

"We've got 'em!" "Good work, Tango June! Reel him in!"

Ratchet jumped again, whipping out his wrench on instinct, but . . . nothing. After a few moments, he lowered his wrench, looking around. Aside from a pair of soldiers at the end of the hall scratching their heads like Ratchet had just taken a piss in the corner while singing "Amazing Grace", there was nobody around him, and not even any panels to leap out of and surprise him somehow.

Ratchet glanced around, worried, before looking back around the corner again to see Courtney Gears standing there, given enough room to start doing a little dance of joy, much to the delight of the guards around her. Ratchet blinked, then decided that maybe approaching a robot who could identify him by sight wasn't the smartest idea right now. Ratchet ducked into a nearby bathroom, checking for cameras before locking himself into a stall.

"Darkstar! What the hell is going on!" Ratchet winced as the earbud transmitter clicked on, and he held his right ear. "The Vox Fleet is disengaging! You've got to get out of there before they peel out too far for you to make a clean escape!"

"What are you going on about? They're blathering on the ship about how they've 'captured' m- er, how they've captured 'Ratchet'," Ratchet went on, making sure to spit out his name in such a way as to throw off his trail, "and I'm trying to figure out what's going on myself!"

"Hang on . . . I'm getting hailed. Maintain your position!" Jigsaw growled, as the bridge of the _Gangrel_ was demanding more and more of her attention as a confused fleet tried to call in for orders. She slumped into her seat, glancing out at the windows. "Dammit, who needs answering first?"

"The highest priority hail is coming from the _Neurotic Vagabond_ of the Vox Fleet." Gangrel answered, her doll form sitting on Jigsaw's knee. "I think in light of our new information from 'Darkstar', we should answer it."

"Sync the connection." Jigsaw groaned, sitting up.

"_Gangrel_ to _Vagabond_, requesting synchronization protocols . . . requesting . . . re-!"

The communicator's screen popped up, and soon Jigsaw found herself making eye contact with a face she had hoped she'd never see again. "Good evening, Miss Forte . . . my, you don't look like you've aged a day since your suicide!"

"Shut it, Nate." Jigsaw snapped. "I notice your fleet's running away. I'm so glad to see you know when you've been beaten."

Nathaniel chuckled, one finger wrapped up in his ponytail. "Don't flatter yourself. Unlike your little crack squad, at least we gained something out of this skirmish."

"Gained what, a few thousand bolts' worth of shrapnel?"

Nate gave her a wide, devilish grin. "We've been waiting to catch our new prisoner ever since he escaped our clutches the first time. We'll be back for you in short order, Miss Forte, but you're not half as dangerous as 'he' is."

Jigsaw blinked, realizing just who 'he' was referring to. "You're bluffing."

"Suit yourself, Miss Forte; but don't worry, we won't hang onto him long at all. We promise we'll send him right back to Veldin, where he belongs . . . in a funeral missile with a copy of his execution for you all to see. That is, if we don't broadcast it all over Vox News first." Nathaniel smirked. "Have fun explaining to your citizens how your bumbling killed Ratchet! I'm sure the whole Galaxy will enjoy that one!"

With that, the screen shut off, and Gangrel blinked. "Oh dear."

"This doesn't make any sense. Ratchet would have told us if he was captured." Jigsaw pondered, before sitting up again. "All commanders, sound off your troops! I need a headcount!"

"I've got all my men!" "Half of mine got blown out, but I scooped 'em back in myself!" "All clear here!" "One of mine's sleeping the rest of this mission off, but we're all accounted for!" "I've got mine — AND I'm heavy one of the enemy! You won't believe how ugly this monkey-boy is!"

"Who else hasn't reported back in? Mercedes? Dremel? Gates?" Jigsaw queried, running off of the few names she could remember. "Clank?"

"Clank?" Gangrel blinked, speaking up and looking at Jigsaw with a fearful look in her eyes.

"CLANK!" They both shouted at once, and Jigsaw jumped out of her seat in fright, before she spoke up again. "That's got to be it! Anyone hunting for Ratchet would also spot Clank! And Clank was on . . . oh _shit _. . ."

Jigsaw ran for the doors of the bridge, which opened a few seconds too early to reveal Cypress, Adari'a, and Big Al on the other side. Al spoke up first. "You don't think Ratchet's really been-?"

"Worse!" Jigsaw gasped out. "Darkstar, come in!"

"Yeah, look, I'm going to ditch the plan to grab Gears and just head on back. This operation is either too incompetent or too transparent for me to do enough dam-."

"Negative, Darkstar!" Jigsaw hissed. "We've had a change of plans. You do not, I repeat, do NOT leave that fleet until you grab 'Ratchet' and bring him back here! They're planning to execute him and I want that Lombax brought back alive!"

"Okay . . . and as much as I hate to leave nameless soldiers behind to die, is there any reason I would even care?" Ratchet shot back. "I mean, no offense, but I'm pretty sure you'd rather lose him than me right now."

Jigsaw growled into the communicator. "Oh, I'll give you a reason to care . . . he got captured with Clank. Do I have to spell it out or is that reason enough for you?"

Ratchet was silent for a few minutes, but when he spoke up next, Jigsaw could tell he was doing it through gritted teeth. "Don't wait up."


	28. By the Book

_Have you ever buried your face in your hands  
Cause no one around you understands  
Or has the slightest idea what it is that makes you be  
Have you ever felt like there was more  
Like someone else was keeping score  
And what could make you whole was simply out of reach  
Well I know . . ._

-"Have you Ever" by the Offspring**  
**

**Chapter 27  
By the Book**

* * *

Dimitri blinked awake, a cold sensation running up his spine along with the dim realization that he was somehow spread-eagle, a series of cables holding his wrists, ankles, tail and neck in place. He glanced around, his eyelids limp, as though drugged — a conclusion he quickly accepted as fact once he noticed Clank in a similar series of restraints, except for the fact that his were being toted around by the strangest-looking Lombax Dimitri had ever lain eyes on. For some reason, he couldn't help but smirk at noting that even though he couldn't hear what the stranger was saying, he should be thankful for that fact right about now. 

Clank had no such luxury, though.

"Get a load of this one, Jack!" The orange-furred Hobbit smirked, holding up Clank by the framing that held him prisoner. "You can't tell me they picked this guy for those spy films with a straight face!"

"Dexter, DOWN!" a voice barked, and the wise-cracking Hobbit whose name was apparently Dexter winced, sliding Clank back into place. "Those two are dangerous!"

"No, my boy, we two are dangerous!" Dexter grinned. "Seriously, now, who was it that led those DZ-Seekers all over the Aridian Desert, just to find their deadlock collar left behind on a greased-up sandshark? Who rode that Arbiter round all the way through Orxon's sewer system? And who just captured the biggest Public Hero Number One this Bob-damned galaxy has to offer?"

"Not the point!" A quick series of keystrokes into the console, and the pilot's chair spun around, causing Clank to blink. He'd expected 'Jack' to look a little like Dexter, but he seemed . . . taller, sleeker, cleaner. More like an Anyr than a Lombax, since that strange chartreuse gradient didn't look like any color he'd ever spotted on a Lombax before now. "You are talking way too much, and they're not talking enough. You know what Mom said about prisoners as well as I do."

"Rule 249: 'A prisoner is either talking or escaping.' Swear to Jehovah-One, Jack, if you start quoting the whole damned book I'll make you _eat_ the book." Dexter rolled his eyes as Jack spun his chair back around to the controls, and Dexter looked back to Clank, and then back to their still-armored 'Ratchet'. "You got a point, though. Tin-Tin and the Lone Danger over here ain't exactly said much."

Clank glared at Dexter, a sidelong look in his eyes. "We have no reason to speak with you."

"Come on, Bolt-Brain, you'll have it easy enough. We've got contingency plans out the yin-yang on you two, and we know you have a price." Dexter smirked. "A nice new movie deal, a few non-disclosure agreements . . . If keeping you in the spotlight is what it takes to keep you shut up, you'll be doubling your filmography in no time!"

Clank blinked, insulted, before glaring at the Hobbit. "I'm already on important business."

"Yeah? Well business just got cancelled!" Dexter shot back. "As for your friend here . . . So sorry to say he'll be gettin' cancelled too . . . which reminds me, Ratchet; would you prefer being gassed, vaporized, or will you settle for a simple, low-tech beheading instead? For a fee we'll be willing to send you back with your head in the same box rather than selling it to the highest bidder."

Dimitri lolled his head, glaring at Dexter with a look of disdain that didn't leave his helmet. _Now wish I could hear . . . what weird Lombax want? _

"Come on, Ratchet, it's a simple question. We can't just give you a nice contract like Clank's or bully you into workin' for us the way Gleeman used to. We still have all those DreadZone tapes, after all . . ." Dexter grinned at him. "So what's it gonna be?"

Dimitri blinked, giving Dexter a vacant stare, his head still lolled halfway to one side. Dexter glared, slapping Dimitri with a forehand that drove his helmet against the metal. "Damn it, man, I want an answer!"

"We'll deal with that later." Jack remarked off-handedly. "He's a marked man, and as long as that paralyzing agent we pumped into him is working, it doesn't matter. Just get Clank to agree a little more handily to our offer, so he won't have as much incentive to work against us."

Clank narrowed his eyes. "You won't get away with this."

"I'd say 'we already have', but it's not over till we've got your friend's head in a basket." Dexter smirked. "But hey, once Nate works your little circuits over, we'll have the deal of a lifetime set up for you . . . and besides that, we're still waiting for the other shoe to drop on this whole capture anyway. Whether you figure out a way to cause some trouble or a few of your friends try to stage some freaky suicidal rescue, we'll be waiting on it. Because in all honesty, we know we're going to have to execute _somebody_ . . ."

_meanwhile . . ._

Ratchet snarled to himself as he primed up as many of his weapons as he could, concealing them away for quick recall later. He had to keep up this charade as long as he could, sure, but he had as good a feeling as any that he'd need to shoot something before this mission was over.

The good news, of course, was that if this place was as cocky about executing 'Ratchet' as they were about capturing 'him', they'd be broadcasting half of their movements in their own haste. If he had any clue about how this was going to go down, they'd likely take 'Ratchet' to one of the head honchos on board, most likely in a massive room where he'd be able to blend in with the other soldiers, giving Ratchet the perfect chance to either intervene or take an officer of some sort hostage just long enough to bargain for Dimitri and Clank, preferably with them both still alive.

Ratchet slipped out of the bathroom, strolling away from where he thought Miss Gears might be, keeping his wits about him as he glanced around, looking for a good place to get information, bolts, anything . . .

"Hey! Where's your buddy, pal?"

. . . Anything as long as it wasn't 'getting captured'. Ratchet winced, not daring to turn around. "He went to take a piss, sir."

"Don't you 'sir' me!" The voice shot up again, and Ratchet cringed upon his error. "You think they made me an officer for nothing?"

"No si-. Er, ma'am." Ratchet hissed back again, checking his gloves. He'd need something strong but quiet, and the best thing he had to that right now was his wrench. He had to maintain the illusion as long as he could, to buy the few extra inches he'd need to nail her in the head just right.

She didn't sound convinced, though. "Soldier, I want you to get back in there and get . . . oh, what's your friend's name-."

"Dimitri!" Ratchet barked out, before clapping a hand over his mouth. Why the hell didn't he learn to lie properly sooner?

"Strange name . . ." She spoke up, and suddenly Ratchet heard a pistol cocking. He spun around, his mind half on just whipping out his SuperNova and blowing his cover entirely, before he blinked and saw what had to be the sweetest little face you thought you'd ever see on a half-Lombax-half-human, except for the fact she was pointing a very large, very mind-blowing (along with skull, spinal cord, jaw, and ear-blowing for that matter) weapon at Ratchet, and he was caught so off-guard at the size of the weapon he even noticed a three-eyed smiley face painted on the side. "Very, very strange."

Ratchet took a step back, half-convinced that even his SuperNova wasn't about to be nearly powerful enough to force a standoff, as he noticed several soldiers encircling him, armed with pulse rifles and all starting to notice just how different Ratchet really looked from them. Ratchet tried to force a smile, glancing back at the superweapon-toting Hobbit girl. "I don't suppose I can just offer to work KP for this?"

"Yeah, right. Just don't move, hitchhiker . . . I'm not afraid of a little splash damage to hit you with this."

Ratchet glanced around, pulling out his wrench. "You don't have the guts."

"Get him!" She barked, and instantly the soldiers swarmed in on him, stunning him with one of the pulse rifles before wrenching his arms behind him, yanking the wrists up into an otherwise impressive chickenwing crossface. Ratchet kicked, but another pair of soldiers quickly gained hold of his legs, twisting them around until Ratchet was facedown on the floor, his lungs on fire and finding it hard to breathe.

"He's down, Miss Archanis. Your orders?" One of the soldiers spoke up, causing Ratchet to try to turn his head, despite the pain.

The Hobbit girl smirked, putting up her weapon before pulling out what looked to be a tranquilizer gun. "Let's go see what other sorts of information our Hitchhiker has . . ."

Ratchet continued to struggle in shock, but one firing of the tranquilzer into the back of his ear, and it was just a matter of waiting out the nanotech until he passed out.

When he came to, Ratchet noticed himself being dragged, although all he could really 'feel' were the cables wrapped around his body. His visor and cowl had been removed, but the rest of his clothes were still on him. His weapons weren't, though. He simply no longer 'felt' them there.

"We've brought the prisoner!" Ratchet heard 'Archanis's voice speak up again. It didn't make any sense, though. He thought Daisy was human, and dead to boot . . . and even if it was a daughter or a niece or some other relative, a half-breed like that wasn't supposed to be possible. The soldiers dragging him along didn't vanish in a puff of logic, though.

"Hold it." A new voice shot up, cold and tempered. "I thought Jack was bringing Ratchet here. What are you doing with him?"

"This is Ratchet?" Archanis blinked, shocked. "I would've shot him on sight if I knew that!"

"Prop the prisoner up. I want to check something." The voice spoke up again, and Ratchet suddenly found the frame he was bound to spun around and set vertical, with a series of clamps shooting out of the floor to secure him upright. He found himself held up and out in spread-eagle fashion, and looking into the finely-powdered face of evil.

All the ruffles and petticoats of her ankle-length skirt did nothing to dissuade that opinion, as Ratchet looked up to see a finely dressed older woman standing there, mostly dressed in black dress with white trim, holding a black parasol in one hand that seemed to double as a cane, blood-red gloves, and — strangest to Ratchet, though he'd long-since convinced himself that nothing was strange anymore — a tight black _hijab_ that fit her like a cowl, with her powdered-white face being the only part of her body showing to him, if that. She smiled, but it was a thin, knowing smile.

She walked behind him, and Ratchet's head turned to follow, trying to figure out what she was up to. In one fluid swipe, she reached for the back of his neck, and Ratchet reared back on instinct, rocking his frame, but not hard enough to make it fall over. One gloved hand rested on the frame as she went for his neck a second time, taking hold of him by the scruff, and yanking down his collar so hard that he gasped for breath.

She smiled, holding the collar down further, as though directing the others to see. "This is why I convinced Gleeman to 'mark' all his DreadZone contestants. The tattoo is a dead giveaway."

"Rub more salt in the wounds, why don't you . . ." Ratchet growled, closing his eyes. The less he was reminded that he had the DreadZone logo inked into his skin, the more he could just pretend it didn't exist at all . . . He hated that damned thing. He'd even had to go so far as to wear the pulse pack around his neck back during that game of Strip Revolution so he didn't have to answer any questions about it.

"Shut up, Ratchet." The cold woman snapped. "You'll speak when I'm done educating my young officer here . . . isn't that right, Miss Archanis? Or would you rather I called you Maggie?"

"I get it now!" Maggie Archanis jumped, smiling. "Wait . . . if this is Ratchet, then who did Jack and Dexter pick up?"

The woman gave a soft chuckle. "Someone who is probably scared halfway to his death as it is. See to it that those two bring their new 'friends' here to me. Make sure to bring a few more officers with you as well, preferably the ones that don't mind dressing up so we can claim some plausible deniability afterwards. After all, hostage situations can be milked so much harder than war crimes . . ."

"On it, Mrs. Avon!" Maggie smirked, running off and leaving Ratchet with the few soldiers and bodyguards he could see in the room, along with the slinky, strange woman.

She walked around to Ratchet's front again, prompting Ratchet to stare at her once more. "So . . . you're Dahlia."

"And you're a dead man walking, but we don't need to state the obvious every time we meet, now do we?" Dahlia smirked, tapping her parasol ahead of her. "I'm actually disappointed in you, Ratchet. I know I run my ship well to prevent 'stowaways' and other unwanted creatures from sneaking aboard, but for some reason I thought a hero like yourself would at least manage to work yourself further inside to test my security systems properly."

"Makes two of us." Ratchet mumbled to himself, looking away.

Dahlia looked down at him, standing up straight. "Not had much experience at getting yourself into deeper trouble, I see." She glanced around at the soldiers around her, before returning her gaze to Ratchet. "I hope your mission orders were at least better thought out than your execution of them. What are you doing here?"

"I'm not telling you." Ratchet snarled, but right after he did so a large electric shock went through him, stunning him once again.

Dahlia raised a carefully-drawn eyebrow. "Tell me what you want, little Lombax. As shrewd as I am, I still know when to work a deal."

"Bullshit." Ratchet hissed. "You'd just kill them anyway."

"Them?" Dahlia knelt down, using her parasol to prod at Ratchet's neck, and right then Ratchet noticed the muzzle of the barrel in the tip of her parasol. "So you're just here for your friends, is that it?"

Ratchet winced, trying to wriggle loose, before collapsing back in the frame again. "Just . . . just let them go. I can't go back without them."

"I don't think you'll be going back at all at this rate . . . but tell me, why are they so important to you?"

Ratchet glanced over at a nearby doorframe, where he saw another pair of prisoner's frames being toted in by another gaggle of guards. "CLANK!"

"Ratchet!" Clank shouted out, just as bound as Ratchet was, followed soon after by a equally bound (and still hidden behind concealing armor) Dimitri, with the two of them propped up and their frames secured to the floor in short order.

Jack and Dexter walked in right behind them, their ears perked up in shock. Dexter spoke up first. "Hang on, 'Ratchet'? I thought we had him!"

Jack shrugged. "Well, we have him _now_, apparently . . ."

"Thank you, Jack." Dahlia spoke up, turning to one of the guards. "Remove his helmet. He never should've been allowed to keep it on this long."

Dimitri gasped for air as the helmet popped off, revealing his face and his silver ear-cuffs, prompting Dahlia to take a step back in shock. She glared at Ratchet, her cold veneer dropping just long enough to show the shock on her face, and shouted "You risked your life to come rescue a _deaf-mute_? I knew heroes did stupid things, but that's messed up!"

"You were going to execute him! What was I supposed to do?" Ratchet snapped back, losing his temper in short order.

"So you decided to be an honorable little hero and turn yourself in to save your friend's necks . . . how noble. Foolish, but noble." Dahlia chuckled, as Ratchet dimly noticed a pair of hands clapping around his neck, the chill making it clear that they were slipping a deadlock collar on him, and Dahlia sat back down. "I don't suppose you would be willing to allow yourself to be executed, just to save the boy and the robot?"

"Ratchet . . ." Clank cried out again, concern in his eyes. Dimitri said nothing, but was still looking around with fear in his eyes.

"Come on, Ratchet. I want an answer." Dahlia remarked again, looking at the seething anger plain on Ratchet's face. "I want you dead, and preferably I want to accomplish this without having to worry about any more 'rescuers'. You want your friends alive and released. Name your terms so we can both get what we want."

Ratchet glared at her. "Why the hell would I trust you? How am I supposed to know you won't just kill them anyway?"

Dahlia covered her mouth to suppress a smile. "That's for you to include in the terms then, isn't it?" She glanced down at him. "I already said you're as good as dead, Ratchet. You can either attempt in vain to prevent this, which will result in the deaths of both you and your friends, or you can strike a deal with me to at least ensure that those two are taken care of, in exchange for your cooperation. Your _total_ cooperation, to be precise. Anything I perceive as deviance or defiance will nullify the terms, but as long as you are honorable enough to hold up your end of the bargain, I will hold up mine."

"Damn it, what about Rule Fourteen?" Jack barked.

"Don't you dare quote the book at me! You're not one of my advisors, and I already know Rule Fourteen well enough to know it doesn't apply right now." Dahlia snapped, turning back to Ratchet. "Which reminds me, your terms can only apply to those two prisoners and their treatment prior to your execution. The actual terms of your imprisonment leading up to and including your execution will be my terms, of course."

"Ratchet, please . . ." Clank cried out again, straining against the cables. "Don't do this! We're not-"

"Clank, stop." Ratchet sighed. "She's wanted me dead from the beginning anyway."

Dahlia blinked, looking at Ratchet with a cocked eyebrow again, slightly confused. "To be fair, I'd rather put you to use . . . but I know you're better off dead for my purposes."

Ratchet hung his head low, eyes at half-mast. "I want them transported back to Veldin, unharmed. No wiretaps, no tracking systems, no explosives, nothing except what they came here in. Once they're safe at Elysium and I see proof of as much . . . I won't resist."

Dahlia nodded some. "You'll need to remain obedient until we can return them safely as well, you realize. It's a bit of a trip from here to Veldin still."

Ratchet looked up at her, even though his ears had already started to drop in resignation. "I also need to deliver a message back to-."

"That's not within the scope of your terms." Dahlia narrowed her eyes. "Their safe return and release to Veldin is acceptable, but that's all I'll allow. Do we have a deal, Ratchet?"

Ratchet felt his throat drop into his stomach on a bungee cord, lifting his head up to see Clank and Dimitri looking back at him. "Deal."

Dahlia smiled her thin grin again, before turning her head towards Jack and Dexter once more. "Take our bargaining chips somewhere safe. See if we can't get something useful out of them without violating our new 'agreement'."

"Yes, Mrs. Avon!" Dexter perked up. "We kinda need a cart, though. Those frames are a little heavy."

Dahlia shrugged. "Handcuffs and collars ought to be sufficient, now that we've reached an agreement."

"Mrs. Avon?" Clank spoke up, wide-eyed. "My friend here needs his hands free in order to speak."

"Your 'friend' can talk all he likes once he's in a cell. I see no reason to risk allowing him use of his hands like that."

Clank looked over at Ratchet, whose head was now bowed down in defeat. "I believe he'd at least like to say goodbye."

Dahlia made a quick glance over at Dimitri. "Cuff his hands in front of him, and make sure he's collared. Both of them." She turned to Clank. "Make it clear to the mute what's going on, and that Ratchet won't be able to sign back at him. I don't have time to waste."

Dimitri stumbled forward out of the frame, his hands quickly corralled together and another Deadlock collar clapped on. He blinked, looking over at Clank being given similar treatment, and found himself struggling to get the words out despite his restraints. ((What happening? You look sad. He looks worse. What going on?))

Clank sighed, his eyes looking even more forlorn. ((We're going home. He's not coming with us.))

((Where they taking him?))

Clank sighed, touching the collar on his neck gingerly before continuing. ((He's not coming back.))

Dimitri blinked, twigging it right then. "Raht-chi?"

"Dimitri, no . . ." Ratchet spoke up, weakly. "Don't . . ."

"Ratchi . . ." Dimitri eked out again, running over to him, prompting several of the guards to pull out weapons on instinct. ((What you doing? Fight back! Save yourself!))

"Dimitri . . . don't. Just don't." Ratchet sighed. "I just hope it's worth it."

Dahlia raised an eyebrow, looking down at Clank. "Are those two even able to understand each other?"

Clank shrugged. "Not really."

((Can't believe you're doing this.)) Dimitri signed back, his hopes fading.

"It'll be okay." Ratchet looked back at him. "I can't save the galaxy every time, right?"

Dimitri said nothing, and signed nothing, but quickly moved to grab hold of the front of Ratchet's shirt, before moving his hands to his face, catching Ratchet completely off-guard with a kiss. There wasn't much to it — a dry kiss, but a forceful one still — but it was still enough to cause Clank to drop his jaw in shock. Dahlia and the guards, however, made no movements, scrutinizing it carefully in case they needed to intervene. Ratchet looked shocked for an instant, but dropped his guard and accepted it soon after, eyes shut as though trying to imagine himself back to the safety of the _Gangrel_.

Dimitri pulled back, looking at Ratchet as carefully as he could, as though trying to study his face. ((Thank you. For everything.))

"That's enough!" Dahlia hissed. " Now come on. We've got three cellblocks and three prisoners here. You know how to sort them!"

"You heard her! Come on, Dexter." Jack spoke up, grabbing hold of Dimitri by an ear. "Explains a lot, really."

"All right, tin can, you're coming with me!" Dexter shouted, grabbing hold of Clank by his restraints. "The mute already kissed your boyfriend goodbye. We're not letting you do it too!"

"Ratchet!" Clank shouted out, trying to stall as long as he could.

"Clank . . ." Ratchet looked over at him, eyes drooping again. "Take care, will you?"

Clank nodded, finding himself dragged along by Dexter. "I'll get the others to-!"

"Don't." Ratchet barked. "We made a deal. Now get out of here."

Clank blinked, speechless as Dexter pulled him away, unsure what to say anymore. As Clank left, though, Dahlia walked back over to Ratchet, kneeling down so that the bound hero would be able to look her in the face. "Resigned yourself already? I must say, that's a good sign. You really must care for those two."

"My mission was to rescue those two. That's the only reason I agreed to this." Ratchet snarled. "And I still don't trust that you won't try to kill them anyway."

"Please. The only reason I agreed to even give you a choice in the matter is because I know why you want to rescue those two." She smirked. "The more they believe I can be reasoned with, the better it is to convince them to work for me later. You, on the other hand, are too stubborn for such tactics. Fortunately, you're also too bound to be able to stop me, at least for now. Better to at least maintain the facade of 'honor' than to threaten you outright with detonating their collars should you get out of line."

"Speaking of which . . ."

"I already know your friend Clank understands how to remove them, and he'll be able to do just that once they're released and off my ship, assuming he doesn't go ahead and remove his own once he's in a cell. The other one is smart enough to figure it out himself, given enough time. Right now it's more of a deterrent than a true threat." Dahlia quipped. "All we really did was spin the decryption algorithms around a bit, since I'm no longer researching into improvements on it. Damien was disappointed, but he'll deal."

Ratchet glared at her, before sighing to himself and bowing his head back down in defeat. "Great . . . over a year since Vox caught me in the first place, and I'm right back where I started, aren't I?"

"I wouldn't say that." Dahlia smirked, reaching one hand under her hijab, fidgeting with her neck a little before pulling out her own collar, albeit currently inert. "You're in a whole lot worse."


	29. Night Night, Number Six

_It's so easy when you're evil  
This is the life, you see  
The Devil tips his hat to me  
I do it all because I'm evil  
And I do it all for free  
Your tears are all the pay I'll ever need . . ._

- "When you're Evil", by Voltaire

**Chapter 28  
Night Night, Number Six**

* * *

"Could you at least let me walk?" Ratchet grumbled. "I already agreed to go quietly . . ." 

"Standard procedure." Maggie remarked, looking down at Ratchet's prone form as the series of guards carted him down the hallway. "Besides that, you're dangerous and we know that you're dangerous."

Ratchet looked over at her. "Bullshit. If I'm that bad, why didn't you just drug me again?"

"I figured you'd at least appreciate the conversation rather than spending the last days of your life drugged to hell." Maggie glanced down at him, nonplussed. "If you have any questions, feel free to ask, but don't expect them to all be answered. I can't give away 'too' much; just in case and all."

Ratchet gave a small nod, still looking up at the ceiling as he was wheeled along. "Okay, first question; how drunk did Daisy have to get to conceive you?"

"Asking questions designed to piss me off will not make your execution any swifter . . ." Maggie spoke, scoffing. "And for the record, she didn't. Conceiving me, I mean, not the general drunkenness."

"Adopted?" Ratchet blinked, noting to himself as the cart turned a corner.

She shook her head, and Ratchet noticed a large red bow on the back of her brown hair coming into his line of sight. "I have about two dozen of my 'siblings' on board the ship; there's more Hobbits on here than that, but those are just the ones I'm biologically related to. Rather than spending five years on her back, my 'mother' Daisy decided to pick out a few of us from her work and raise us herself."

"She doesn't seem like the maternal type . . ." Ratchet spoke, mostly to himself. "And all things considered, 'Maggie' doesn't seem like the sort of name I'd expect an evil genius to come up with."

"She was a _mad scientist_, damn it!" Maggie snapped, glaring at Ratchet. "One, 'Daisy' isn't a great name for 'evil' either, and two, it's short for Magnolia. All things considered, she's entitled to name her children whatever she wants to name them."

Maggie crossed her arms, keeping apace with the cart but doing so with a huff. Ratchet watched her for a few minutes, before speaking up with, "What'd you mean, 'from her work', anyway? Did she make most of the crew here?"

Maggie nodded, and for that matter, some of the guards pulling Ratchet along nodded as well. " Most of us Hobbits are directly from the SubGenius Decoding Project. How much of this do you want to hear?"

"I don't have a whole lot else I can do right now . . ."

"Just checking." Maggie chuckled, before going on. "As you may already pretty aware of, SubGenii in general and human SubGenii in particular aren't all that picky about what species they try to mate with. Eventually enough of this goes on that they start trying to figure out if there's a way to breed humans with their two 'cousins' — the Lombax and the Anyr — because they eventually got it into their head that with that much fur on them, they have to be closer to 'Yetinsyny' than ordinary humans. Much of Mom's original work was in developing the two species, and as a result, a good chunk of her 'genetic code' became part of the species. As it happens, the rest of my siblings and myself are all 'her' children, more so than the rest of them."

Ratchet shook his head, muttering to himself "That is creepy", before they stopped at a cellblock. Ratchet glanced inside, not particularly impressed.

Maggie smirked, flashing a large grin at Ratchet. "Say hello to your new home for the rest of your life — no matter how short it is!"

Ratchet groaned as he felt the guards sliding his imprisonment frame into the cell, before the cables retracted, and Ratchet was given a liberal shove into the cell proper. He rolled, catching himself, before rising back up to his feet and trying to rush the exit before the panel was gone, only to find himself pawing against a forcefield. "Can't say I expected better treatment . . ."

"You may want to back up a few steps before the bars close in on you." Maggie noted absentmindedly as Ratchet blinked, moving out of the way of a mesh paneling that reminded him of a mall's protective screening. "The benefits of a redundant system, right?"

"I guess . . ." Ratchet felt around, hoping that maybe his weapons were just 'misplaced', but soon came to the conclusion that all he had on was all he had, period. He sighed, sitting in the back of the cell, trying to look at Maggie through the mesh. "Suppose I should at least be thankful I'm not going to be tied in all the time."

The Hobbit girl chuckled, adjusting her shirt. "It'd be a start, yes. We're keeping guards on you for now, but don't be shy . . . You don't have the time to waste, now do you?"

"Hold on." Ratchet sighed, pulling off the long-sleeved shirt and vest he had on. "About Dahlia's 'deal' . . . you think I did the right thing?"

Maggie pondered this for a moment, then shrugged. "Only if you think it was. I know I wouldn't have done it . . . then again, if I were you I wouldn't have come back for those two at all. But hey, if you're dumb enough to trust her and naive enough to think that she couldn't still nab those two even after she lops your head off, fine by me. Have a nice night, 'hero'."

With that, Maggie started walking off, taking a sprint around the Gamma cellblock. It wasn't a large block, but large enough as far as her feet were concerned, stopping over at a nearby break room before grabbing a coffee and checking the timesheets. A minor task, but hey, if she'd managed to capture Ratchet by sheer virtue of her security systems, she had to be doing something right . . .

She was humming to herself when she heard a pair approaching, and promptly spun around to see Jack and Dexter standing there. "Nice work, Maggie."

"Thanks! Hopefully you two aren't jealous . . ." She smirked, holding her coffee up. "I tried telling you before, being Chief of Security is where the action is!"

"Not really a great job to have hold of when Vox was in charge." Dexter remarked. "I seem to remember you nearly getting your own head popped off when they finally figured out how to break those collars."

She rolled her eyes. "We knew they were insecure to begin with; that's why I kept telling Vox they were meant only as a redundant system with a lot of fear behind them. I mean, hell, Jack here made a hobby out of learning how to crack the new versions!"

Jack smiled to himself, then frowned. "Just wish Mom did . . . which reminds me-."

"I've not forgotten either." Maggie winced, holding her cup with both hands. "We'll figure out a good nod to her for this year. And for the record, I still think she 'knew' the decryption, she just never bothered with removing it; she wanted to wait until we all got picked up here so she had an insider's touch."

"Some 'insider's touch'." Dexter mumbled. "All we've been doing since we got here and she died has been on security, and working as 'White Hats' no less! I've not had my hand in some proper evil in ages!"

Maggie raised an eyebrow. "What about cracking the Stygian defense shields?"

"Okay, make that 'proper evil that wasn't just a ratings grab'. I mean, you'd think sending dozens of heroes to their deaths would be more entertaining, but not when Vox is breathing down your neck half the time, complaining about how non-revealing Hydro Girl's armor is or looking for ways to make Ace Hardlight's codpiece look bigger . . ."

Jack nodded. "And filling said codpiece with itching nano isn't exactly 'fulfilling' either."

"All right, all right!" Maggie spoke up. "Look, this'll pay off once we start seeing the big picture. We already know we've led enough heroes to their deaths to knock the galaxy out of whack, and once we get rid of Ratchet, there won't be another 'legendary' hero like him for another decade, at minimum. We'll be able to plunge the galaxy into a new dark age!"

"A galaxy without heroes . . ." Jack mused.

"A galaxy already bent over and lubed up for whatever sick mind's willing to take it . . ." Dexter added on.

"A galaxy entirely too willing to accept-" Maggie added on, then stopped herself. "Hold on, what the hell were we thinking? This is horrible!"

Jack and Dexter blinked, and Dexter ran over to hand Maggie an apple. "Girl, don't have a change of heart like that without warning us . . ."

Maggie narrowed her eyes. "That apple's not poisoned, is it?"

"I just picked it up! I haven't had time to poison the damn thing!"

"All right . . ." Maggie grabbed it, then ripped out a chunk of it to feed to the nearby corralled ankle-biter, but not biting into it herself. "Look, I'm all for thwarting heroes as much as any other Archanis, but think about it. We're about to rid the entire galaxy of its heroes. Yeah, there's still a few out there, like Kid Nova, Hydro Girl — hell, include that Jigsaw chick if you like, even though she's already neutered herself by going into politics — but no one big enough to stop us. You realize what that means?"

Dexter smirked. "We're about to take over the galaxy?"

"More like giving the galaxy AIDS!" She snapped back. "Think about it. We're taking out all of the galaxy's defenses, but we've forgotten to make a pre-emptive power grab and take out some of the other supervillains. That means whenever Vox Enterprises tries to make its power grab, it'll be countered and interfered in by all the villains smart enough to recognize what state the place is in. Wide-scale intergalactic terrorism gives the place an excuse to grab more power, sure, but we'll also be wasting far more resources trying to counter them than we should. Which means either we'll eat up all our resources if we don't get a hold of the government's coffers first, or else we'll-!"

"We'd end up becoming the new heroes instead!" Jack exclaimed, shocked.

"Oh, the paradox!" Dexter moaned, grabbing his head. "But we really ought to get a hold of Rose and Penny before we start plotting like this, right?"

"We're not plotting anything." Maggie glanced down at the still-alive ankle-biter, before finally biting in to her apple. "Not yet, at least. We're in no position to; none of us are Mrs. Avon's advisors, or at least not enough to get her to see that keeping Ratchet alive is in her best interests."

"Please, he's one Lombax. What differ-?" Dexter started up, but Maggie immediately whipped out 'Mr. Smile', aiming it right for Dexter's head.

Jack smirked, taking a sidelong step away from Dexter. "Rule Forty-Six."

"I stand corrected." Dexter winced, and Maggie put up her oversized weapon. "Okay, so how does keeping Ratchet alive make your little Galactic AIDS scenario any rosier?"

"Simply put, if he's around, he'll be more obligated to clean the mess up than we will. As long as he's distracted, we can go about quietly tipping the scales in our favor and picking off the more diligent villains that would interfere or pose a threat. Unfortunately, the drawback to this is that it means whenever he gets out of 'our' clutches in order to go around saving the galaxy once again, there's a good chance he'll be getting stronger and smarter than he is now. He just might end up too powerful next time for us to capture him again."

"So we either kill him now and risk becoming the galaxy's new heroes, or we spare him and risk letting it come back to bite us in the ass." Dexter summed up, grabbing an apple for himself.

Jack shook his head. "I still say we kill him."

"We've got time to make up our minds. Hell, if we can convince Mrs. Avon to behead him, we can keep the head alive and on ice if we have to." Maggie took another bite out of her apple, a devious look on her face. "Or, we could just sit back and see if the three of them can't give my security systems a run for their bolts after all. That said, before you start quoting Rule Thirty-Six, I think we all have keys to turn in. "

_Back on the Gangrel . . ._

"They're out of range!" Cypress fumed, sitting outside of the bathroom. "Turning the tub into your own personal drowning pool will not get them in range faster!"

_I'm not having this discussion with you right now._ Jigsaw shot back, causing Cypress to hold her head.

"Could I at least ask that you keep the mental bursts at a minimum? The rest of the crew is complaining about synchronized headaches." She sighed. "I realize you're upset about losing Dimitri, but come on, Ratchet's in there too. You have to figure he has the kind of reputation he's earned for a good reason."

After a few moments of silence from Jigsaw, Cypress went on. "I'm not so arrogant as to say 'they'll be fine', but at minimum you have to hope that there's enough competence between the three of them to pull something off. Sure, Nathaniel knows how to spin stuff so hard he could probably rape the president's daughter and turn it into a pan-galactic holiday, and Damien's a complete sadist, but Marie and Dahlia are such wildcards that they still have a chance."

_A chance?_ Jigsaw gave a mental growl, and suddenly the door opened, catching Cypress by surprise and causing her to fall back. Cypress looked up to see Jigsaw standing there, but only for a few moments before she leapt back into the water, and took hold of Cypress's hair from behind. "Damn it, they're not wildcards! Marie is at least as bad as Damien, if not worse, and 'Dahlia', assuming she even exists, can't be too far off the mark from your father!"

Jigsaw came in closer, wrapping one arm just under Dahlia's chin to pull her in close enough to let her hear the rest. "And we _both_ knew your father well enough to know that can't be good."

Cypress gave her a silent snarl, but Jigsaw knew she'd struck a nerve with that remark. Cypress flipped herself over, her hands on the edge of the pool as she balanced herself, glaring right into Jigsaw's face before speaking up again. "I really hope you know where to draw the line, Jigsaw. As bad as he was, he had to do something right."

"Please, that's your mother's side talking." Jigsaw muttered to herself, crossing her arms in a self-censoring pose. "But my point's all the same. We may as well set up for funeral services just as much as contingency plans. We don't know what the new company's like now, but we 'do' know that whatever they're in is bound to be vicious."

"Maybe so... but come on, put on a towel and come with me. Al's been trying to analyze the fleet movements to see if we can tell what's going on." Cypress offered a hand out. "I've already directed most of the fleet from the _San Andreas _off the ship, so we can tail the Vox Fleet a little closer without worrying about the extra baggage."

Jigsaw nodded, reaching for a towel, then blinking as she realized she'd picked up one of Adari'a's. Mumbling to herself, she wrapped on the oversized towel-robe, slipping the hood over her ears. "Easier to slip in six than six dozen anyway. "

Jigsaw trotted out into the main area of the ship again, with Cypress right behind her, heading for the bridge. She turned to see Big Al standing there, and smiled at him, hoping to glean some information out of him before he even spoke up, but the electrical chatter made it hard to tell. He spun around, smiling down at her. "Have I got good news for you!"

She smirked, pulling her hood down for now. "Tell me."

"The Vox Fleet is still heading for Veldin, but the general arc they're taking is giving them a bit of drift. However, there's a pair of ships in the fleet that are breaking formation and taking a more direct route. My guess is that those two are actively heading for a port on Veldin, while the rest of the fleet goes to Veldin Orbit."

"Clever." She glanced over the formation routes Al had been calculating, taking it in with a dim note of the formulas involved. "How does this relate to Ratchet, Clank, and Dimitri's minor debacle?"

"I'm not sure. One of the ships is the _Carnival Mortis_, which up until now had been traveling so far behind the rest of the fleet that we didn't even include it into our attack plans. The other one is the _Divine Avarice_, which we know we last had contact with Ratchet on. Add that in with the collection of ships that bridged with the ship right before it altered its flight path, and it becomes clearer what's happening."

She nodded, lost in thought. "So you think they're on that ship?"

"It's my guess, but it's hard to tell. The actual ship communications are pretty well encrypted — I can tell they're using Solar Silk encryption, but the form of it they're using is designed for an unknown operating system." Al wrinkled his nose at the thought. "The only other clue we have would be the contract stream Clank was sharing with Gangrel for at least the initial part of their capture."

Jigsaw nodded. "Gangrel, anything worth note from Clank's contact stream?"

"Well, the good news is that he didn't send his gestalt at any point, so he must have felt some level of confidence during the capture." Gangrel spoke up, hovering over until she was sitting on the console just in front of Al. "There's some random data in there — picked up by the _Photomancer_, a few images of the weird 'monkey-boy' creatures that caught him, some general specs of the immobility frames they placed him in, but past that we lost the FTL connection."

"Speaking of 'monkey-boys', would someone please throttle the fool who coined that term?" Jigsaw muttered to herself. "I realize there's no humans around to hear that kind of chatter, but they're not fond of it."

"It's pretty apt, actually." Gangrel shrugged, tossing up a screen to show off the first few images that came in. "You're not about to tell me that's a Lombax."

"Sure I'm not, but-. Hang on . . ." Jigsaw blinked. "See if you can't enhance the image a little. More color and a little larger."

Gangrel shrugged. "I'll try . . ." The screen became larger, and Jigsaw blinked again, shocked. She walked over towards Cypress, who was standing in another part of the bridge, and grabbed her by a hand, pulling her over.

"Jigs, this better be worth-. Hey, that's Dexter, isn't it?" Cypress's eyes went wide as she saw the photograph.

"Damn straight, and I'll bet my tail fur that the nice plume of color right behind him is Jack." Jigsaw remarked. "Now I'm curious."

"You've met those two?" Al blinked.

The Lombax nodded. "You'll see them in the discs later. They're Jack and Dexter Archanis; Daisy's 'sons', if you can believe it." She then cast a sidelong look to Cypress. "Proof positive the girl was nuts long before we got a hold of her."

Cypress raised an eyebrow. "We're talking about someone who had done so much tinkering with her own body that she had to get a metal leg rather than regenerate a new one. How much more proof was necessary?"

"I don't get it. Why would they be working for Vox if they're Daisy's children?" Al scratched his head. "That doesn't seem right."

"Dimitri used to work for Vox too; you wouldn't have to stretch too far to assume that they may not want to be there." Jigsaw shrugged. "My guess is that either Vox was banking on the rest of the Archanis line to be so dangerous that they were worth keeping nearby, or they may have signed on because of Daisy's previous connections."

"Think the other 'siblings' are with them, too?" Cypress glanced over, eyes narrowing just slightly.

"Either with them or in close enough communications that if they're not in league with Vox, they're plotting right under them." Jigsaw smirked. "Now you see them, Cypress? _Those_ are proper wildcards."

"Awaiting orders, Captain." Gangrel spoke up, almost absentmindedly.

"Head for Veldin on the same path as the _Avarice_, but don't overtake her." Jigsaw spoke up. "See if we can't get within communications range again without tipping our hand."

Gangrel nodded. "Cloaking on?"

"Of course." Jigsaw smiled. "If the _Avarice_ tries to hail us, try and find out who's doing the hailing before we accept it. Let's see if we can't make our wildcards just chaotic enough to work."


	30. The Strangest Company

_Fifteen felonies, twenty-three misdemeanors,  
APBs from Anchorage, all the way down to Cleveland  
A million-dollar reward; they want me alive or dead.  
They're gonna put three in my body, three in my head . . ._

- "Bullet Proof" by Alabama 3 (A3)

**Chapter 29  
The Strangest Company**

* * *

Jigsaw mumbled to herself as she found herself having fallen asleep in the captain's chair on the bridge — she felt weak. Apparently following behind Ratchet and company had made her just stressed enough that she felt the withdrawal hitting her. With a mental note that the week without blood rations was already up and even if it wasn't, Cypress wasn't mean enough to stop her, she sat up. 

A strange draft caught her ears, and she opened her eyes, shocked to see the windows shattered in, the bridge open to the elements of space. Strangely, she didn't feel weightless, or even the instinctive sucking in for air, which suggested that maybe she'd merely crashed on some nearby planet. She stood up, searching around for someone, but finding no one there, not even Gangrel, who usually couldn't be found anywhere except the bridge. Something about this all felt weird, but she couldn't seem to place it.

"You should really be more careful."

"Who said that?" Jigsaw blinked, looking around. "Who's there?"

"You are." The voice spoke again, and Jigsaw searched around, finding an undamaged screen. A Lombax was standing there, her hair held back with a wide headband, her eyes slightly aglitter, and looking all too familiar.

Jigsaw narrowed her eyes at the screen. "Why do you look like me?"

"I am you!" The screen barked back. "It's time for a test."

Her eyes narrowed further. She knew herself well enough to know what 'test' meant. "That's impossible. I can't experiment on myself."

"Then this won't be as easy for you as it is for everyone else, will it?" The screen spoke up. "You should really be more aware of your surroundings, Ms. Forte. You've become so wrapped up in mind games and 'knowing' so much that you've forgotten how people behave when you can't control them."

She blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"You've forgotten how to play the game, Ms. Forte. It's time to learn again."

"Don't even try this nonsense." She snarled. "You can't test me. I can't come up with a situation I can't find my own solution to. And quite frankly, the fear of death is meant to be a motivation to finish the game — I'm this thing called a 'Vampire', remember? As in I don't die!"

The screen smiled at her. "Oh, you can die. It just takes more effort. And by the way . . . I assure you, you won't die."

Jigsaw rolled her eyes. "I suppose I'll just wish I did."

"You might. Being responsible for everyone else tends to do that."

Jigsaw blinked, before turning to head for the bridge doors, which looked slightly ajar. She tapped on them, but they hesitated, until the doors came open and a series of communicators popped open, showing various scenes of gore and disarray. Her eyes widened upon seeing Cypress with bleeding tears down her face. "What kind of test is this?"

"That's for you to know and you to find out." The screens spoke up. "You've got to tell them how to free themselves. If you mess up, they die, and it's one less person to worry about. But if I were you, I'd start paying attention. The timer's ticking on Ratchet rather fast."

"I thought Ratchet was still- _Ratchet_!" She hissed, spotting Ratchet armed with a wrench, trying to hack his way out of a maze of steam pipes. He looked to be sweating hard, his fur matted down as he kept breaking away nuts and stripping the pipes as he went, breathing hard. It took a second look to notice the silver web-like 'vest' wrapped around his torso, slowly choking the breath out of him. "Get me down there! He needs help!"

"Sorry. You're not allowed to risk yourself, remember? You're supposed to be the responsible one!" The screen taunted her again. "If you can't figure out how to lead him, he'll just have to die. You'll be watching every last bit, and it'll be all your fault. It's your ship, after all. It's your game. You led him down there, now get him out."

"He knew what he was doing!" Jigsaw snapped. "He can take care of himself!"

"So first he needs your help, now he doesn't? You can't have it both ways. He's following _your_ orders, Captain Forte. They're all following your orders. Now they're all going to die. They're all going to die and it's _all your fault_! Get him out! Get him OUT!"

_Let me out!_

"RATCHET!" She shouted, jerking up, and finding herself shocked to be sitting up.

"Woah . . . thought you'd gone too quiet." Adari'a blinked, looking over to see Jigsaw sitting in the captain's chair again. "I just figured you'd gone sick again."

"In the worst way possible." Jigsaw groaned, holding her head. "Is Al gone?"

"He's working down in the pipes, why?" The centaur shrugged, then caught the bad end of Jigsaw's glare. "Yikes, wrong word choice."

The Lombax snarled. "Pouch me." She watched Adari'a walk over to the cooler, before adding on, "I'll ask for a second pouch once I finish the first."

This caught a double-take from the taur. "Look out, Solana, the Queen is hungry! What's gotten into you?" She spoke, a slight hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Even for having a nightmare you're not this bad."

"I want to make sure I don't repeat the experience, thank you." Jigsaw responded, turning her chair just enough to hold out a hand and catch the first pouch, sinking her teeth into it almost immediately. "I think I just tried to set up my own slip."

Addy blinked, confused. "Did it work?"

"I didn't stay asleep long enough to let it." She sighed, looking down at the pouch again. "I've already got quite the nightmare going on in the real world too much to let the fake ones get to me."

"Aww, poor 'Saw . . ." Adari'a walked up to her, picking the vampire up. "Don't worry so much. We're on the _Avarice_'s trail and hopefully at least one of the three ought to be able to contact us."

"How much closer have we gotten since I slipped out?"

"We're somewhere between the _Carnival_ and the _Avarice_ for right now." She responded, a pink paw going over the keyboard again as Jigsaw took another long sip out of her pouch. "I'm trying to avoid staying in the same plane as them, but I still have this nagging feeling it's a little too obvious what we're up to."

Jigsaw nodded, looking over the current positioning. "I know I've not said this in a while . . . But I'm still shocked that you understand all of this."

"I don't. I just understand enough about flying this ship to keep us all from falling into some star's gravity well." She smirked.

"That's my point. Did you even have a working understanding of gravity before you came here?"

The centaur lowered her eyes. "Please, 'Saw. I was ignorant, not stupid."

"Sorry to interrupt your little 'romantic' quarrel . . ." Gangrel piped up, fluttering over to between the two of them. "We're being hailed. The _Avarice_ is onto us."

Jigsaw glanced at Adari'a once more, before dropping down to the floor. "Who's hailing?"

"I'm having trouble identifying the picture. She looks like the one you called 'Dexter' earlier, though."

"One moment." Jigsaw moved back to her seat, getting in one last, long drink from her pouch before stowing it away in a chilled side compartment, wiping away as many traces of the drink as possible. "On screen, Gangrel."

The doll nodded, and ended up hiding just behind the screen as it came up, earning a momentary smile from Jigsaw as she noted the face in the back of her mind. "Good evening, miss. Having any trouble tonight?"

"Just you." The girl spoke up, raising an eyebrow at the camera. "Your ship looks awfully suspicious with that cloaking and all."

"We could say the same thing about you and your ship, Miss . . ."

"Archanis. Magnolia Archanis, chief of security. " She responded, causing Jigsaw's eyes to widen. "I believe Mom had quite a few choice words for you."

Jigsaw smirked. "I'm sure she did, but the question is how many of them you're actually able to repeat to my face."

"Touché."

"As for my presence, I'm just heading back home to Veldin, same as you. Same as a few 'associates' on board your ship, if my intelligence is on the mark." Miss Forte spoke up, crossing her legs in front of her. "Perhaps we both happen to know which ones I'm referring to?"

"Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't." Maggie shrugged. "Taking credit for the ambush we had recently?"

Jigsaw shrugged back. "If I say yes, will you bring my men back faster?"

"I'm not authorized to make negotiations by myself, Protectorate." The answer came with a shaked head, and a thin smile. "If they're the ones I think you're referring to, we've already made arrangements for them. I can assure you that at least two of the three are in the best care we can justify."

"It's the third I'm wondering about."

"So negative!" Maggie scoffed. "Sadly, I'm not at full liberty to disclose the agreement he negotiated with us. At least, I'm not at liberty to do so on an unsecured band. I've already had to deal with one fool and her 'private call' this week; I'd be a hypocrite to violate that myself."

"Why should that matter now? We already know where the other is."

"And you've still not turned off your cloaking."

Jigsaw gave a hard glare into the camera. "Who else besides you has spotted us?"

"To your credit, we only spotted you because of your war-driving. You're spitting Hypernet protocols all over the place." Maggie shrugged. "A little sloppy, but so long as you're not firing at us, we won't see the need to swat your ship down like the bloated green gnat it is."

"Hey, I picked out the damned paint-!" Adari'a started to shout, but was immediately silenced, her face scrunching up with a bad mental image of Al wearing only a tight pair of briefs. Jigsaw cast a quick glare at her before returning her attention to the screen.

"We won't see the need to attack your ship like the giant striped bull's-eye it is if we can come to more amicable terms first." Jigsaw shrugged. "I'm sure the last thing either of us want is to draw fire."

"Define 'amicable terms' first."

"How does dinner sound?" Jigsaw smirked.

Maggie laughed. "I'm not that kind of girl, Protectorate! And I think I'll decline preemptively. An enemy ship makes a terrible restaurant."

"Please, it's a floating embassy as far as you're concerned."

"Exactly. It's an embassy. I'm not about to step on 'Veldin soil' without a- . . . Hm." Maggie blinked, catching herself in mid-thought. "Perhaps we can come to some reasonable terms after all. I'll need to discuss this with my associates before we continue these negotiations."

"I want an answer as soon as possible." Jigsaw frowned. "You have twelve hours. I expect a response in four."

"Noted. _Avarice_ out." With that, Maggie cut the feed, pushing back from her security desk with a hard sigh. On the one hand, she now had the opportunity to use a rare loophole in her line of work, and on the other . . . "Jack-Jack, set up a token ring. We've got details."

"Initializing." Jack responded, causing a smile to appear on Maggie's face. "We have the whole family aboard?"

"Rose and Penny boarded about an hour ago with Damien. Apparently Penny's just finished wrapping up her 'consultation' with him, and Rose wants to take a look at the ship Ratchet used to slip by."

"Excellent. Setting up token ring now." Jack smiled. "Just enough time to go rattle someone's cage . . ."

Jack smirked, slipping his earpiece on with practiced ease, just as he started walking down the Gamma cellblock. He would just as much have liked to go to one of the others, but the deaf one would be pointless, and robots didn't scare easily at all, so he decided to take what he could as he took a running start.

Ratchet was asleep in a pool of self-tattered clothing, using the vest as a type of pillow, and this caused Jack to smile. An instant later, Jack leapt up, kicked off the wall to hit the force-field disabler, then latched onto the curtain's lattice, his hands and feet both wrapping around the lattice the way a parrot latches onto its cage walls, causing a tremendous clatter that woke Ratchet up, and caused him to run to the back corners in a flurry of half-naked instinct.

Jack chuckled, watching Ratchet as he turned his head, glaring hard at his unwelcome alarm clock. "God damn it, that's not funny."

"As long as I don't break into full laughter . . . " Jack smirked, still clinging to the lattice. "Besides, you're not meant to enjoy your time here anyway."

"I agreed to go quietly, not to taking this kind of abuse beforehand." Ratchet scowled, standing up to stretch.

Jack rolled his eyes, leaping down to land on his feet. "Your loss. Either way, I have more important details to go over now." Jack smirked, tapping his earpiece again. "Token, token, who's got the token?"

"I do!" A voice chirped up. "What did I miss?"

"Whatever it is, I'm surprised we're doing this by token . . ." A second voice perked up, speaking into Jack's ear. Ratchet walked over to the curtain, confused, and only hearing Jack speak. "I thought we'd perfected five-way by now."

"Token's better for debates, Penny. You know that." Maggie responded, a small hint of glee in her tone. "We've got a situation here. We've got a chance to speed up our 'good friend's execution by a significant margin, as in 'within the next eight hours'."

Dexter shouted up almost immediately. "Don't toy with me, Maggie! How'd you pull that off?"

"I thought those 'terms' weren't flexible." Jack remarked. "Token back to Maggie."

"Penny's analysis of the fleet makeup in that ambush was dead-on. We have no less than the 'esteemed Protectorate' Forte on our trail, and Dexter knows what that means just as well as I do."

"Oh, that's brilliant!" Dexter grinned. "She's right! But one small problem . . . Short and fluffy mentioned Elysium. It won't count."

"Since when have we ever worked to the letter on a contract anyway?" Jack remarked. "It's not the Book."

The first new voice seemed to be in agreement. "I'm with Jack on this. We're talking government work, so we work by goverment rules."

"If we're going to pretend to stick to it, we need to stick to all of it. We can't afford to be sloppy when dealing with Public Hero Number One." Penny shook her head. "Either get him to accept the new terms or stick to the old ones."

"Penny's got a point. We're going to have to renegotiate if we plan on speeding this up." Maggie groaned. "Who wants to tell Avon?"

"Forget Avon!" A sixth voice snapped, followed by an ultrasonic pitch that caused Jack to stumble, his knees hitting the floor. Ratchet blinked upon seeing this. "I already know about this, and I damn well don't need to tell her!"

"Damn it, this is a private ring!" Jack growled. "Who gave you the token?"

"Aveline did! You forget, Jack, Aveline may have been built by you, but she works for _my_ company . . . unlike you and your siblings, apparently." The voice growled, speaking just loud enough for Ratchet to hear, now that Jack had grabbed his ear, jarring the headset loose.

Jack continued to hold his ear. "I don't know who you think you are, boy, but you're nowhere near your uncle."

"Nor do I intend to be!" The voice growled. "For starters, I'm not letting any more upstarts like you live long enough to threaten me!"

Penny's voice chirped up. "Damien, deep breath . . . we're not plotting anything. There is nothing for you to anger yourse-EEK!"

"I don't think so!" Damien growled. "I've dealt with you five for long enough! But since it'd be such a waste to get rid of all of you . . ."

"What's going on?" Ratchet blinked, his fingers poking through the lattice.

Jack turned to snipe at him, but suddenly, a loud 'click' rang through the air, and Jack stopped cold, his blood freezing to the spot. A moment later, he ripped off the red scarf wrapped around his forehead and neck, looking down at his now exposed neck to see the collar on him glowing fiercely orange. He heard it _Chirp!_, and when it did, his knees buckled, causing him to hit the floor.

"Such a shame . . . but I'll just have to settle for plugging up my security leaks." Damien cooed. "You have three minutes."

"Dammit! My record's four twenty-seven, you asshole!" Jack growled, his hands going for the back of his neck. "Only on a cadaver run at that . . . "

"Sounds like it'll be amusing for later." The voice hissed. "So long, Jack."

_Chirp!_

Ratchet's eyes went wide, as Jack was now kneeling in front of his cell, hunched over as he tried to release his collar. Ratchet damn well didn't like this guy, and the feeling was clearly mutual, but something about Damien's voice . . . about the collar . . . about the kind of desperation . . . and hell, he wasn't about to get any joy out of seeing this guy's brains splattered across the floor in front of his cell.

Ratchet stood up, fingers poking out through the lattice curtain again. "Open the gate! I can see it better!"

"Can't! Damn Thirty-Six!" Jack growled, glaring at him in spite of his frustration. "Give me one reason to trust you!"

_Chirp!_

"You have no reason NOT to!" Ratchet shot back, and to this, Jack looked around.

The next moment, he sat in close, driving his collar against the lattice. "Good enough!"

Ratchet's fingers began to fumble, often with Ratchet cursing as he found himself having trouble with his reach. "Looks like we'll have to let the thing explode once it's off."

_Chirp!_

"We can't! The room's too cramped!" Jack hissed. "Hurry!"

"I'm trying . . ." Ratchet whimpered, before taking hold of the collar and yanking it as far in through the gate as he could, with a hard cry of pain from Jack, only just having disabled the tamper-sensitive circuits. "Thought I saw . . . 'Saw! That's it!"

"What the fuck!" Jack shouted, although it sounded strained.

_Chirp . . . . . . . chirp . . . . . . ._

Ratchet held the collar close, biting into it, then instantly backing off as a wash of toxic flavor flooded his mouth. The glowing orange liquid of the collar soon spewed out, turning not so glowing from the instant it left the collar to when it hit the floor. Ratchet held the collar there, trying to get as much to drain out as possible, as his hands were now covered in the substance, splattering on him and the floor with the vigor of so much movie blood.

_Chirp . . . . . chirp . . . . . chirp . . . . ._

"It's still chirping!" Jack shouted. "Stop the chirping!"

Ratchet bit into it a second time, ignoring the complaints of his teeth as he tried to gnaw into the metal, trying to interrupt the circuits as well as he could.

_Chirp . . . chirp . . . chirp . . . chiiiiiiii . . ._

"Praise Bob . . ." Jack groaned, pulling the collar loose and away from his neck, the last few traces of the orange explosive dripping onto him, before chucking the collar three meters away from the both of them, in case it still went off. "What the hell did you do to mangle it that bad?"

Ratchet coughed in complaint, which kept up until Jack offered him part of his scarf as a hankerchief. "I just . . . ptoo drained out the glowing stuff . . ."

"With your teeth!" Jack blinked in astonishment. "I'm impressed. Most people treat the collar itself as indescructable, which makes no sense because the fucking thing still explodes . . ."

"Yeah? Well as long as it's not a poison, I'll be fine. I'd _hate_ to cheat you people out of killing me properly."

This caused the red-scarfed boy to frown, before offering a pair of fingers through the lattice. "Let's try this again. Hi, I'm Jack."

"Hi, I'm Ratchet." The Lombax took an experimental grip around Jack's fingers. "Okay, I kept hearing the word 'Hobbit' being tossed around, but the hand's all wrong . . . You've got two thumbs."

"Only 'cause I'm not." Jack smirked. "With the shortstuffs, they're Hobbits. For the half-Anyr types, it's 'Raver'. Yeah, I probably hate the term even worse than you do."

Ratchet shrugged, letting go of Jack's hand. "I've heard worse."

Jack nodded, standing up. Hard to believe that less than five minutes ago, he thought Ratchet was just a mere annoyance who kept getting lucky with the right weapons in hand . . . "Doesn't matter too much at the moment."

"So what around here does?" Ratchet shrugged. "Sounds like whenever Damien gets a hold of you, he'll have your head either way."

"And your interference won't help that time." Jack shrugged. "Still . . . you saved my life there. Thanks."

Jack started to sprint, aiming to end up in Dahlia's section of the ship. He'd need her help to keep Damien from wanting to rip into him any further, especially considering the help he'd just accepted from Ratchet. For a hero, he wasn't half bad . . .

"Damn it . . ." Jack groaned, slowing to a halt. "Great. Now I've got Rule Sixty-Eight to worry about too."


	31. Finally, a Boss Fight!

_You never see me make  
The same mistake twice  
You never see a tear  
Coming out of these eyes  
You never see me beg  
For another shot  
And you never see me change  
Into something I'm not . . ._

-"Famous Last Words" by Zeromancer

**Chapter 30  
Finally, a Boss Fight! **

* * *

Ratchet blinked as he saw the barriers to his cell slip away, seeing a well-dressed unit that caused him to blink twice when he looked up; standing in front of him were Maggie, Jack, and Dexter, but in crisp black business suits, their red sashes and scarves standing out oddly in comparison. Jack was holding a DeadLock collar with an eerie blue glow gingerly in one of his hands, while Dexter and Maggie were holding out other restraints, presumably for Ratchet to wear. 

Ratchet narrowed his eyes, raising an eyebrow. "What the hell?"

"Just put it on before we have to call reinforcements on you." Maggie barked. "And I've already got them on both ends of the cellblock, if you're that damn stubborn about it."

"We'll be making things plenty clear once you're properly bound up." Dexter remarked, clapping on Ratchet's ankle-chains. "Don't worry, you'll like this one."

Jack shrugged. "Like he has a choice."

Ratchet frowned, then turned around to let Maggie slap on some handcuffs. "I don't suppose this has anything to do with Damien's game with you last night . . ."

Jack shrugged, before deftly reaching for Ratchet's neck. Ratchet reeled back, but Maggie and Dexter both grabbed onto Ratchet's ears, holding him still while Jack removed Ratchet's original DeadLock collar, switching it out for the blue-glowing collar. After that, he stepped back, giving Ratchet a chance to stand up straight while Jack hid the now-loose collar underneath his scarf, before winking to Ratchet. For a moment, Ratchet wished he could read Jack's mind enough to understand what was going on, but he seemed satisfied enough with Jack's 'assistance' to smile.

Maggie rolled her eyes, pretending not to notice. "We need to hurry back to the _Photomancer_. Penny and Rose are waiting."

A quick jog later, Ratchet noticed himself back in the hangar where he'd landed, his ship quickly having been scavaged for parts and otherwise stripped-down. Ratchet sighed, but a flash of something caught his attention, and he whipped his head up in shock. "CLANK!"

"Ratchet!" Clank chirped up, currently cradled in the arms of what looked to be a female Raver, with green fur fading into magenta. Ratchet bolted, running straight for him, only to notice after the fact a hard electric shock that caused him to freeze in shock and fall to the ground, where Jack, Maggie, and Dexter scooped him up.

"Damn, Maggie, he's gonna be a handful no matter what, isn't he?" Dexter chirped, looking down at Ratchet.

Maggie shrugged. "So pump him. I'm surprised you didn't do that before anyway."

"Sure thing, baby-sis. One tranquilizer coming up!" Dexter grinned, his hand roughly on the back on Ratchet's head. Ratchet began to struggle, but he noticed his strength fading, quicker than normal. Something about Dexter's claws was having an effect on him . . .

Ratchet glanced around, stuck in a daze as he noticed a second female Raver walking up with Dimitri, her dark skin standing out against neon-purple fur. With a hearty shove and some quick cabling, Ratchet found himself wedged and trussed up between Dimitri and Clank, tied into what looked to be a loose cargo hold.

"Aww, they look cute like that!" The green girl Raver cooed, grinning down at them. "Shame we can't keep 'em . . ."

"Please, Rose." The purple one rolled her eyes. "Lombaxes already have enough of a persecution complex without being considered as pets."

'Rose' scoffed. "You're always so negative about these things, Penny. The striped one looks like he'd be great!" She laid her hands on his face, and Ratchet blinked enough to come to his senses.

"Back the hell off!" Ratchet growled, trying to shift around in his seat to get his hands on something, anything he could use. Rose blinked, shocked, before pulling out a small blaster and pointing it right at Ratchet's head.

Penny chuckled. "Honeymoon's over, I see."

"Shut up . . ."

_Meanwhile, on the Gangrel . . . _

"Damn it, we can't screw this up!" Jigsaw muttered. "It's probably our only good chance at getting them back and we can't afford a partial victory on this!"

"I thought these were just meant to be 'negotiations'?" Cypress remarked pointedly, adjusting the low-profile armor under her business suit.

Adari'a chuckled. "Negotiations always run smoother when your enemy knows how badly they need to agree with you."

"What she said, with more tact and less blood spilled." Jigsaw smirked, before adding on, "I'm still pretty hungry . . ."

Cypress winced, sighing just enough to be heard as she picked up a nearby pulse rifle. "Al, you better get dressed for a fight too. I don't know what Jigsaw's expecting but I'm not taking chances."

"Don't worry. I added some extra defenses when I picked up my prostethics." Al beemed. "Wait until you see what these babies do in combat!"

Cypress gave him a strange look. "So then why is the only thing I'm noticing on there a clickwheel?"

"Oh, sorry, that's just my armband." Al remarked, taking off the music player. "Now I'm ready!"

"Attention: _Photomancer _to dock in 30 seconds." Gangrel intoned. "Their ships make me uncomfortable . . . always a pain dealing with alternate operating systems."

"Can you tell if Ratchet and the others are aboard?" Jigsaw peeped up.

The voice coming out of the speaker grille sounded unsure this time. "Several passengers showing up on infrared. No corpses visible. One robot aboard, who I'm 95.7percent sure is Clank. I cannot hazard a good guess on the others."

This got Jigsaw to roll her eyes. "Count the short ones. Is it that hard?"

This time, Gangrel's voice sounded bitter. "There are more than two 'short' forms on the ship, so yes, I have insufficient data to determine who is aboard."

"Don't piss off the ship, Jigs." Cypress spoke up, picking Jigsaw up from behind. "Come on, we've got to hurry downstairs to the docking bay. Addy's already gone on ahead of us."

"I can walk there just fine . . ." The Lombax fluttered to the ground, her cape flowing behind her as she slipped down into the docking bay, Glancing down at the _Photomancer_ for the first time, with its plates of pale yellow and green punctuated by seams of bright red metal. "And after looking at that ship, I don't ever want to hear those people referring to my baby as a bloated green gnat ever again."

It took Gangrel a moment to speak up. "It doesn't bother me."

"Yeah, well you can't help the bloated part . . ." Adari'a spoke up as she stood at attention, waiting for the ship to open, rifle concealed along her flank. The ship lowered its ramp, and as the ramp hit the floor, Jigsaw and Cypress stiffened to attention as well, eying the ship suspiciously.

They watched as Clank, then Dimitri and finally Ratchet were filed out, wordlessly, silently, led by the black-suited Archanis children. Jigsaw bit her lip, but couldn't help but melt just slightly in relief from the knowledge they were still alive — for now, at least. She noticed the children keeping their distance from her — apparently they'd been forewarned.

Jigsaw lifted her head up, trying to stay as calm as possible. The more emotion she showed now, the more likely this would start going pear-shaped. "State your terms."

Maggie looked to her siblings and then shrugged. "We'd prefer to show you our terms."

"What's that supposed to-?" Jigsaw spoke up, and then looked up in shock as she saw Dimitri being tossed from the far side of the bay, his collar hitting the groud with a clatter as Adari'a dove out to catch him, noticing his handcuffs falling off of his wrists. Jigsaw blinked again, then ran out to catch Clank as he was tossed in similar fashion, and his restraints likewise clattered away.

Her eyes were wide in shock as she looked at Clank in her arms, before realizing that she'd just dived forward enough to get one of the children — Maggie,to be precise — in her mental range, and her eyes went narrow.

Maggie backed up, nearly knocking Penny over, eyes wide in shock. Dexter snarled back quickly in response. "Back the hell off, mindfucker!"

Jigsaw's eyes were still narrow, though, even as she stood up, her arms still cradling Clank like a child. "You're not here to negotiate anything . . ."

"She's clever." Jack remarked to himself, still holding Ratchet back.

"I'll handle this one." Dexter smirked, holding a hand out. "All right, mindfucker, we'll level; you don't want Ratchet dead. We don't want Ratchet dead — well, by majority vote among ourselves, at least. Hell, we don't even think Dahlia wants Ratchet dead, and he's the one who made the deal with her to get himself killed!"

The sound of clenched teeth on lungs at full capacity was unmistakable. "WHAT!"

Jigsaw's voice popped up shortly after. "Ratchet, if you survive this I'm gonna make you-!"

"You can't judge me!" Ratchet shot back, peeved, straining against Jack's grip on him.

"Oh yes, I can!"

"Save the foreplay for after we're done here, please." Dexter spoke up, a needle-tipped glove working over one of his ears. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted . . . Among the lot of us on this ship at the moment, we all want the same thing. The only problem is, we don't have much choice in the matter. The Vox Brothers and Mama Marie have our hands tied at the moment — pardon the pun — and they want Ratchet dead."

Cypress rolled her eyes. "So just hand him over. You're a clever lot; you can make up a decent excuse for this."

"Please. Everyone knows the best lies have at least a hint of truth to them." Dexter shook his head. "Jack, take off the cuffs on Public Hero Number One there."

Jack's head jerked back in shock. "What?"

"Jack, I know what I'm doing. Now fuckin' get Ratchet to walk!" Dexter shouted again, waiting a few moments for Jack's compliance before Ratchet stood in front of Dexter, confused and with the blue-glowing collar around his neck. "How ya feelin', hero? Nothin' stiff or crampy?"

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

"Come on, the deal never said I couldn't worry a little about your health, no matter how much longer it matters . . ." Dexter smirked, waving his glove-covered hand towards Jigsaw and the others. "Go on. Want to join your friends? Wring my neck? Bang my sisters?"

"Er . . ." Ratchet blinked, taking a step away from Dexter. "I think I'll just walk over here, thanks . . ."

"Hey, I offered!" Dexter smirked, a sly grin on his face as he watched Ratchet walk towards Jigsaw, her eyes still narrow.

She snarled at him. "What the hell did you DO!"

Ratchet frowned. "Don't look at me, I only agreed to that crap to give Clank and Dimitri a chance in there!"

"Yeah, right. Either way, don't stand so close. You don't have any idea what that's collar's about to do." Jigsaw remarked, before snapping. "I said back OFF! You're already as good as dead right now with it on!"

She shoved Ratchet backwards, noting Dexter and Maggie standing there with grim smirks on their faces. Jack grinned as he held up a small remote, while Dexter spoke up again. "We hope you'll understand, because to make this work out for all parties involved-."

_-shinck!-_

Ratchet froze, standing still just long enough to look back at his friends before he collapsed where he stood, his knees hitting the floor a fraction of a second before his head did, now rolling free and bleeding onto the linoleum, and the collar hit the floor soonafter, no longer glowing blue and showing traces along its interior of the wiring that slashed through Ratchet's neck, leaving little doubt as to how it worked.

Dexter winced, but still had a smile on his face, as though he wasn't 'truly' shocked at the gratuitious display. "-well, almost all parties, at least."

"Ratchi!" Dimitri shouted, running for the head, scooping it up.

"Gods . . ." Adari'a paled, holding her own neck momentarily, while Cypress and Jigsaw responded in a much different manner, Jigsaw with her staff and Cypress pulling out an impressive Arbiter.

"Don't give us those looks!" Jack scoffed. "We did what we said we would."

"And if you people know what's good for you, you'll realize we did you all a big favor with Ratchet there." Dexter smirked, stepping forward to poke the corpse. "You want your friend back? We can do it, but you've got to make this look good!"


	32. The Fiddle and the Fury

_Nun liebe Kinder gebt fein Acht_ (Now, dear children, pay attention)  
_Ich bin die Stimme aus dem Kissen_ (I am the voice from the pillow)  
_Ich singe bis der Tag erwacht _(I sing until the day awakes)  
_ein heller Schein am Firmament _(a bright light on the heavens)  
_Mein Herz brennt! _(My heart burns!)

"Mein Herz Brennt" by Rammstein (Translations in parenthesis)

**Chapter 31  
The Fiddle and the Fury  
**

* * *

Jigsaw's eyes closed shut for a moment as she tried to size up the situation, shutting off her mental connections into the outside world. Keeping up with almost a dozen different heads was hard enough without actually being expected to think too. 

Ratchet was currently either decapitated or decorpitated, depending on which end of the body you cared about more. It was reasonably obvious that the children, especially Dexter, were goading them to fight, either as a reasonable excuse to 'lose' Ratchet without having to admit that they didn't kill him, or else this was their idea of an ambush by forcing Jigsaw's hand first without having a reasonable idea what her team was up against. She might be able to handle it on her own, but in a group melee like this, even the few seconds it took to message orders and warnings telepathically would be a few seconds too many.

Dimitri was scared and running on instinct, currently holding Ratchet's head. He'd actually_ impede_ saving Ratchet's life unless she got to him first, long enough to give Ratchet the same sort of treatment she'd done to Adari'a years before . . . provided she remembered how to do it. Al was an unknown, Clank probably didn't have that great of an arsenal, Gangrel was-. Well, Gangrel was going to come in handy right about now.

"Gangrel! Disable all projectile weapondry!" Jigsaw barked. "I didn't upgrade you for nothing!"

"Disabling . . ." Gangrel intoned, and Cypress barely had a chance to put up her Arbiter before a quick flash of light made it forcibly return to her arsenal. Maggie reached for 'Mr. Smile', but ended up with nothing, and a couple of the other Archanis children found themselves pawing for guns as well.

"What the hell, Jigs?" Cypress growled. "We needed those!"

"Yeah? Well a firefight is the last thing we need on the ship." Jigsaw shot back, handing Cypress her staff. "You _are_ aware we're still hurtling in a giant can through the vaccum of space, right? Besides . . . how much you want to bet these brats don't have near the melee experience we do?"

"This from the girl who considers suicide an acceptable battle tactic?" Maggie rolled her eyes, pulling out a serrated scimitar as she stepped forward. "But fine . . . you want to fight dirty, we fight dirty."

Jigsaw nodded, but then her eyes went wide as she found out that Maggie's definition of 'fighting dirty' included picking up Ratchet's body and tossing it at Jigsaw to give herself extra shielding. The response was an immediate shove from Adari'a, who pushed Maggie back into her siblings, before she pounced on the pack of them, and Cypress followed her lead. Jigsaw's eyes went wide at the sight, however, catatonic.

Clank jumped into action, pulling Ratchet's body off of Jigsaw, separating her from the corpse. "Can you stand up?"

"Give me a moment . . .The blood . . ." Jigsaw gasped out, trying to shut her eyes. Feeding during a fight was a hard thing to resist. And it didn't help that Ratchet's blood was not only effectively poured onto her, but it also smelled especially delicious to her. So warm and fresh . . .

"There is no time." Clank spoke up. "Cypress and Adari'a are already engaging the enemy. Ratchet needs medical care immediately!"

"You're right." She sat up, scanning the area for whereever Dimitri had gone. "We need to secure the head first. As long as the body stays warm, we're fine, but the head first."

She scrambled over to the corner where Dimitri had holed himself up, beside Big Al and huddling with Ratchet's head in his lap. He felt the vibrations of someone walking towards him, and tensed, holding the head protectively.

"Dimitri! Take it easy on that thing . . . it needs oxygen." Jigsaw spoke up, coming in closer. "Here, let me fix it."

_Not possible . . ._ Dimitri mewled.

"Come on, you can't just stay here. And it's still possible. I've done this with Addy too." Jigsaw knelt down, putting her hands out. "Come on, hand him to me."

Dimitri slowly nodded, holding it out for her. She gasped again, still feeling the desire from Ratchet's blood, but recovered faster this time as she held Ratchet in her hands. A few quick breaths, and she felt the nanotech seeping from her pores, watching them swarm out towards Ratchet's head, circling like angry gnats around a bright bulb. More and more converged around him until she felt a protective shell bubble forth, her hands being pushed out so that the sphere encircled all of Ratchet's head. She smirked, smiling at Dimitri, then blinked as she remembered just why she didn't do this often.

"Clank, let Dimitri know that Ratchet will be fine as long as the sphere remains intact."

Clank blinked, but nodded and started signing to Dimitri. "I thought you didn't need me to speak to him."

"Just . . . do it, please." Jigsaw spoke up, handing the sphere back to Dimitri before pulling out her violin. "I've done all I can for now. Clank, stay with Dimitri and make sure he keeps the head safe. Al . . . come on, I want to see what kind of a mess you can make in there."

Clank nodded. "And you?"

Jigsaw pulled her hood back, freeing her hair before she set the bow on her strings. "Doing what I do best, of course . . ."

Cypress and Adari'a had split themselves up to better deal with the children, with Penny and Rose on Adari'a while Cypress took on Jack, Dexter, and Maggie, who were all apparently trying to gang up on their respective opponents. Cypress had just swung her staff low, sending Jack flying into a nearby wall. But by now, Jigsaw's music began to swell.

Big Al leapt into the fray, pouncing on Dexter and grabbing him by the tail, before swinging him into Maggie and sending both of the little Hobbit siblings against the hull of the _Photomancer_. "Oh, yeah! You want more of that? I've got plenty!"

Cypress rolled her eyes. "Leave the bravado for after the fight. Something doesn't feel right here."

"All things considered, it's not every day we get to pick our fights like this." Al shrugged. "Or is it something else?"

"It's Jigsaw's music." Cypress remarked, looking back to see the Lombax fiddling away in fury. "I can feel it, but it's not working right. We should be getting more caught up in the heat."

"Great, so we're not only fighting these guys without Ratchet, Jigsaw's useless too?" Al shook his head, before reaching for Dexter's. "Well, at least so far these guys haven't posed much of a- OW!"

Al took a couple steps back right after Dexter delivered a sharp jab into Al's stomach, before pulling back and holding up his gloved hand, filled with various tubes, vials, and needles that laid right next to his claws. Dexter clenched it into a fist, smirking at Al. "Congratulations, fatass — you just got 10cc's of pain. Let me know how it feels when you wake up in three hours."

Cypress jumped back in disbelief as Al charged for Dexter again, only to collapse in a heap in front of him. Dexter smirked as he helped his sister up, before pointing at Cypress, who narrowed her eyes. "I don't think your little hypodermic glove will work through my skin . . ."

"Oh yeah? All I need is the weakest link. And I know where yours is!" Dexter smirked, running to leap up at Cypress's face. Cypress dodged it, holding her arms out to keep Dexter's reach at a more comfortable one, feeling the attempted pricks in her forearms as Dexter swung for what he could get a hold of.

Unfortunately, this meant that she was woefully off-guard when Jack came to again, charging into one of her legs and causing her to hit the floor, giving Maggie the chance to unfurl the large red bow in her hair, using the ribbon to tie Cypress's feet together. The effort it took to dodge Cypress's tail was worth it.

Cypress growled, slamming Dexter sidelong into the floor as she flipped over to crawl, just barely noting Jack closing in towards Dimitri. "You think you're so clever, don't you . . ."

"Just following my sister's leads . . ." Maggie spoke up, pointing to where Penny and Rose had apparently latched onto the same idea, leaving Adari'a's arms tied to her sides while Rose put her scarf to use as a garotte of sorts, leaving Adari'a with only her lower paws to attack with, even though her swords were still in her dangerous, capable hands. "Honestly, when we suggested fighting you for Ratchet, we thought you might, you know, be a real challenge . . . you're out of practice, badly."

Cypress growled, swatting Dexter away again. "That's because you're double-teaming! Besides, I thought we were only supposed to make it _look_ like we kicked your ass . . ."

"Well, sure, if you could kick it at all . . ." Dexter stood up, glaring at a still-playing Jigsaw. "Hey, Mindfucker! You gonna keep fiddling while Rome burns or what?"

With that, Jigsaw stopped. She cocked open a wide eye at Dexter, a sour look on her face, but then shrugged and put her violin up.

"Come on, you just gonna stand there, or what?" Dexter howled. "Damn it, I want someone who's an actual threat!"

"I assure you, that can be arranged." Jigsaw spoke, stepping closer. "Apparently my music hasn't quite softened you up . . ."

Dexter scoffed. "Only if your plan was to bore me stiff! Come on, I thought Mom said you were supposed to be dangerous. What's your next trick, the tea party of death?"

"No, but keep this up and you just might be dinner." Jigsaw responded, approaching in that even keel that made it clear how serious she was when she said it, accompanied by an abrupt flicker of her tongue on her lips. "As I said, it's a pity I can't use other methods . . . "

Cypress paled, sitting up. "Oh shit . . ." She started to crawl, grabbing onto Big Al, but she found herself bumping into Maggie, who was still brandishing that serrated blade.

"And where do you think you're going?" Maggie frowned, poking Cypress with the blade.

"If you have any intelligence in you at all, you'll be going with me." Cypress spoke, narrowing her eyes. "Tell me, you didn't happen to watch how Jigsaw left DreadZone, did you?"

"No . . ." Maggie replied as she looked behind her to see Adari'a breaking free of the sashes, but still also backing off, using her claws to hold the other two Archanis sisters at bay now. "What's going on?"

"Just back off, seriously." Cypress spoke up. "We're not joking here. It's for your own good as well as ours."

Maggie scoffed. "You're bluffing! You just want us out of the way because you can't deal with two-on-one odds!"

Cypress rolled her eyes, moving out of Maggie's way. "Suit yourself . . ." With that, she watched as Maggie started to walk towards Jigsaw and Dexter, then as Maggie's tail jerked when Maggie finally twigged it and realized that maybe there was some truth to the warning after all. With that, she took at least a few steps back.

By now, of course, Jigsaw was right up next to Dexter. "Still want me to fight, little Dexter?" She put both of her hands on his shoulders, tensing them, drawing twin trickles of blood down his chest. His eyes widened as it occured to him just how much strength that required, and he looked up at her grinning face even as he tried to pull away. "I promised your mother that if I ever got out, I wouldn't hurt you or your siblings . . . want me to break that promise?"

"Dexter!" Maggie shouted out, hefting her blade behind her with the grasp of a readied forehand. Jack spun around from his previous position of tormenting Dimitri, and in the next instant, Jack dove towards the tableaux, tackling Dexter to the floor just as Maggie swung around, leaping into the air enough to maintain the control she needed to dive onto Jigsaw, who reached out for Maggie an instant too late.

The sound of metal penetrating through gore and bone was unmistakable, and Jigsaw struggled, latching onto one of Maggie's legs while Maggie struggled to get her sword free of Jigsaw's now slightly less armored midsection. Dimitri and Clank ran around to get to where the others were now standing in shock, as Clank kept hold of Ratchet's sphere.

Jack blinked, glancing up as he and Dexter were now sitting right under Adari'a. She gave him a wide toothy grin, before sitting down and landing on top of Dexter, whose arms were now pinned under Adari'a's bulk.

After edging around the group, Dimitri smirked as he noticing the pair of medpacks that were half-falling out of Rose's coat from when Adari'a started forcing them back, and he grabbed three of them, holding them up while signing to Clank. ((This enough?))

((I hope.)) Clank responded back, poking at the nanoshielding. ((Hand them over.))

Dimitri nodded, huddling close to the sphere just as he turned to notice why they'd all stopped, and his eyes went wide. ((Impossible!))

"Well, at least one of you's dying tonight . . ." Maggie growled as she freed her sword, feeling it hit the metal at last. "Didn't count on it being you . . ."

Jigsaw blinked, noting her splayed out position on the floor, close to Ratchet's body. She looked down at herself, pretending to be shocked, but instead only making a dull note that she was losing blood much faster than she liked. "So it seems . . ." She sighed, pulling herself up on her arms just enough to look up at Maggie. "Well played."

Clank blinked, then hurriedly jammed the medpack against one of Ratchet's ears as Clank was also half-distracted by the scene before him. Despite this, Clank started whispering into the sphere. "Ratchet, if you can hear me, now would be a really good time to wake up . . ."

Maggie blinked. "You're entirely too calm for this . . ."

"As I said, well played, but sadly for you, Miss Archanis . . ." Jigsaw grunted, pulling herself up higher on her arms, even as she pulled the top half of her body away from the bottom, trying to keep her eye contact with Maggie, "I'm not dead yet."

With that, Jigsaw began to crawl towards Maggie, the first hints of graying fur on her face and black in her eyes giving notice that something about Jigsaw was amiss, Maggie blinked, swinging again to try and strike Jigsaw down, but Jigsaw dodged out of the way as her armor began to slip loose, her body becoming noticably thinner.

The fur on Jigsaw's head turned gray as her hair went white, and the headband slipped away, chinkling against the floor, with Jigsaw's entire form seeming to transform in front of their eyes. Jigsaw's pupils went to black, and then to red as the blackness spread to the rest of her eyes; her claws poked through the gloves of her armor, her sight never wavering as she lurched forward, her armor bulging in the arms and chest, crawling forward either in spite of or spurred on by her injury.

Maggie got in a few more slashes, of course, but a hard blow to the shoulder and another glancing nick to Jigsaw's ear had almost no effect, and the monsterous form Jigsaw had taken on was now almost complete. Maggie soon looked at her blade, tossing it away as she tried to comprehend just where in her mind, in any species she'd ever heard of, that could do this . . .

Clank slammed in the second medical pack to Ratchet's sphere, in his own state of disbelief. Rose's eyes were wide, as well as Jack's, Dexter's, and even Cypress's, all fixated in shock. Jack was the first to intervene, running towards the two and trying to wedge himself between them, but a hard swat pushed him away, as though he were nothing. Jigsaw glared at the other siblings, daring them on, but even Dexter this time was at a loss.

Penny looked on, jaw agape. "How is this possible . . . She should be dead! Why the hell can't people here just die?"

She nearly wet herself when the answer came from behind her. "Come on, now, what's the fun in staying dead?"

Penny and Rose both froze, turning around to see Ratchet in his nano-sphere, glaring up at both of them as though he didn't even realize the significance of what he was doing. "Is something wrong, ladies? I'm sure I can correct that . . ."

The two sisters shrieked, then bolted and tumbled over Jigsaw's back in their own fright. "Haunted ship! Haunted ship!"

"Get back here, you fools! There's no such thing as a haunted ship! I'm sure there's a perfectly . . . rational . . . expl-. . ." Maggie crowed out, before realizing how unbearably close Jigsaw's muzzle was to her own neck now, sniffing it in anticipation, and nearly freezing her to the spot. "I don't suppose we can call this a draw?"

Jigsaw snarled, but then began to grin with her mouth wide, showing off her large fangs, as though to make it clear that she had a much different draw in mind.

Maggie panicked, tripping over herself as she struggled to bolt now, but Jigsaw just latched onto an ankle and dove onto it, mouth wide and clenching down on Maggie's calves, only to be kicked as Maggie tried to free herself. She shrieked out, "Okay, it _is_ haunted!" as Dexter bolted for the safety of his own ship, with Jack coming to his senses enough to try and pull Maggie free of the grip Jigsaw had on her.

"Let . . . go of . . .her, you . . . freak!" Jack growled, kicking Jigsaw in her throat, causing Jigsaw to loosen up just enough for Jack to pull a limping Maggie away from her, both of them now running to join their siblings as Cypress and Adari'a stood up, both of them watching to make sure they backed off properly as Jigsaw snarled at him, still in her monstrous form, snapping as the children rushed onto the ship, not even taking the time to shout the usual villainous cliché.

"Captain Forte, the _Photomancer_ needs exit permissions." Gangrel intoned, only to recieve a growl from Jigsaw in reply. "Captain, that's not a valid response. Please, either allow or deny the permissions."

"Gangrel, let them go. We've done enough for tonight." Cypress spoke up. "We got what we wanted."

"Yes, Commander." Gangrel replied. "Setting shields up for departure."

"Good, Gangrel." Cypress sighed, looking down at the corpse-and-a-half lying on the ground halfway across the room, before glancing over at Jigsaw. "Jigs, on the off-chance you actually remember this when you're looking normal again, please try not to earn us another 'victory' like that."

Jigsaw growled, but did no more, as Cypress growled back at her. Dimitri walked around Cypress, still holding Ratchet's head, who seemed to be taking to the fact he was currently stuck in a sphere rather well. "I realize I probably missed a lot . . . but how did I miss _that_?"

"Would you like us to explain it, or will you just take our word on this?" Adari'a walked forward, holding out one arm for Jigsaw. Jigsaw quickly latched onto it, and Adari'a winced as she felt fangs diving against her wrist. Jigsaw stayed latched there, using her own arms to hang on tightly and drink her fill until slowly, surely, the muscle tone fell away, and the color of her fur returned to normal.

After a minute or two, Jigsaw collapsed on the floor of the docking bay, holding her head and weakly looking up at Ratchet and the others, almost all of whom (except for Big Al, who was still unconscious) were now staring at her. She used her arms to appear sitting up, before looking at Ratchet. "For someone who needs their head re-attatched, you're looking at me awfully funny, you know that?"

Ratchet blinked, incredulous. "I'm just trying to figure out why you're the one acting like having your legs missing is no big deal . . ."

"And I'm sure a decent explanation for your 'transformation' may be in order." Cypress noted. "Dimitri's got this look in this eyes . . ."

"I'll explain in short order. In the meantime . . . can we get to someplace where I can put my legs back on? Letting you use my nano is one thing, but I can't heal you until I'm put back together first."

_Approximately one week's worth of blood rations later . . ._

"Ow ow ow ow . . ." Ratchet kicked on instinct, trying to keep his actual struggling to a minimum as Jigsaw apparently 'licked' his neck clean while she put him back together. "That stings!"

_Just hold still enough to let me finish! _Jigsaw intoned, her mouth busy as her hands held Ratchet together, re-absorbing the nano from Ratchet's sphere. _This is easier than expecting nano to do all the work for you. Besides, I need it more than you do at the moment._

"You said you'd explain . . ." Ratchet whined, still wincing.

"I too would like an explaination, Madame." Clank spoke up, standing nearby as he watched her work.

Adari'a raised her hand, walking in close to lay down next to the trio. "Simply put, Jigsaw's body doesn't use nano the way you or I use it. We need it to stay healthy. Her . . . not so much."

Clank blinked, confused. "But then why does she still use it?"

"Because it's still useful." Adari'a rolled her eyes. "You don't notice it 'cause you're a robot, but Jigsaw can do some damn freaky stuff with nanotech just using her head. The best I can guess is that she poured so much of it into protecting Ratchet, she forgot to leave any for herself. Which, while stupid, worked okay-"

"Or at least worked okay until she started running empty on blood as well." Cypress spoke up, walking in closer to the restraining table where Ratchet was now situated and getting himself patched up. "What you saw out there after that point . . . we prefer not to talk about it."

_I don't think the robot's going to freak out nearly as badly as Dimitri did . . ._ Jigsaw peeped up, pulling her head away from Ratchet's neck long enough to breathe. "I went a little nuts, Clank. There's not a whole lot to explain about it, except that it doesn't happen often, I don't have a great deal of control once I really get into it, and you don't want to be in the way."

Ratchet groaned, looking down at himself, despite the fact he still had a good half of his neck exposed, even though it wasn't bleeding. "And what about the half-body bit?"

"Hey, I'm that damn hard to kill." Jigsaw smirked, before returning to her work._ There's only a few ways to kill a vampire, and the rest just doesn't phase me. And before you ask . . . no, I'm not telling you how to go about it either._

"Furthest thing from my mind right now . . ." Ratchet moaned, more sensations picking up in his body. "I had the strangest thing happen while I was dead . . ."

Jigsaw blinked, pausing for a moment, picking up on a few details of it before returning to her work. _Sounds . . . interesting. It'll make a good story later._

Cypress leaned in a little closer, checking on Jigsaw's work. "Okay, so is he officially though being a tomato yet?"

"Just a little more healing to make the fur lay right and I'm done." Jigsaw spoke up. "He seems to have some motor control back . . . I'm having a hard time telling control from chicken-twitch though. It doesn't help that my own legs don't feel like they've woken up yet either."

"Just get him healed up. We'll be back on Veldin in a day or two." Cypress spoke up. "We've got a lot of ground to cover once we return, not the least of which is procuring some new armor for Ratchet, so . . . why don't you two take it easy? You know . . . relax?"

Ratchet blinked. "I'm pretty sure we've got work to do . . ."

"Different kind of relax." Jigsaw responded, giving Ratchet a non-toothy grin and a mental image that made her statement quite clear.

Ratchet blinked, trying to prop himself up. "You're serious?"

"Kind of. For now, let's see how well my patching on you works first, and if everything's okay, well . . . we'll take it from there. Just stay where you are; I'm almost done."

Adari'a smiled, and picked Clank up off the table. "Come on, brother-bot; let's go check up on Dimitri and Al. Maybe you can explain it to the mute better than I can enough to calm him down."

"I'm sure he'll understand." Clank spoke up, before glancing back at Jigsaw and Ratchet paying renewed attention to each other. "Perhaps."


	33. Kiss Your Gears Goodbye

_Fuck what I want  
Fuck what I need  
I'll sacrifice what I believe  
My little Girl Scout  
Your mouth is getting sore  
Will you love me any less  
If I hurt you any more?_

- "Girl Scout", by Jack Off Jill

**Chapter 32  
Kiss your Gears Goodbye**

* * *

"Leave my leg alone!" Maggie snapped, trying to kick Jack away with her other leg. "It hurts!" 

"Come on, Maggie, we've got to treat it immediately. For all we know, Mindfucker's rabid." Dexter spoke up, holding Maggie's ankle on her injured leg. "Hey, Penny, hand me a few of those medikits you packed, will you?"

"I can't! That damned mute filched 'em off me!" Penny growled, flicking her tail. "Shame we had to give him up . . . he would've made a nice challenge to crack. Not to mention we could have used his assistance . . ."

"Look, Dahlia made the call on that. Tell it to her." Jack spoke up, glancing down at his other sister. "Either way, it looks like somebody's going to have an interesting time getting those muscles retrained. And especially before the season premiere, too . . ."

"Fuck!" Maggie growled to herself, collapsing back onto the table she was lying on. "I don't need this . . . I swear, the next time I get my hands on Jigsaw, I will make sure she-!"

"Easy, Maggie. Don't hold grudges you're not willing to follow through on." Dexter chided her. "Now, onto more pressing business . . . we're all dead when Damien and the rest of those trap-jawed bosses get a hold of us! We were supposed to kill Ratchet!"

"Which we did." Jack reminded him.

Dexter groaned. "But we didn't kill him 'til he was _dead_!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "That was the plan, remember?"

Maggie nodded, then winced, holding her leg. "Regardless of what Damien has to say about it, we owed Ratchet. It had to go down like that . . . minus the 'getting my leg ripped up' part, anyway . . ."

Rose chuckled. "As much as I wanted Ratchet dead as well, Maggie's right. But hey, Penny and Jack have been working on how to get away with just this kind of situation. We'll be fine."

"How? We just let go of Public Hero Number One here!" Dexter howled out again, but right after, Jack bent over to whisper in his ear. "Huh . . . . oh? OH . . . Oh, that's good, that's really good . . . er, I mean, that's diabolical!"

"Exactly." Jack smirked, before leaning down to whisper the plan to Maggie as well.

She instantly jumped up, mewled slightly from trying to stand, and ended up kneeling to try and tackle-hug her bigger brother. "Thank you thank you thank you! This is going to be great!"

_Later . . ._

The tension in the room bristled with electricity as the _Photomancer_ slid in to a gentle stop. Damien was there, Standing tall, with Dahlia to one side of him, and to one side of her stood Courtney Gears.

"I thought you were saving him up for the big surprise!" Courtney whispered over to Dahlia, leaning over just slightly.

"I won't make the same mistake Gleeman did. You know that." Dahlia shot back. "Now quiet. You wanted to see Ratchet's head, you'll behave."

"I still say you shouldn't have trusted them . . ." Damien snarled, watching as the hatch of the _Photomancer _began to unseal itself.

"I'm sure they know how to take care of each other." Dahlia remarked, watching the door continue to open. "The rest is details."

As soon as there was enough of a gap, Maggie sprang out of the doorway, collapsing on the ramp, her leg bleeding anew as she crawled out, followed by her siblings — Jack nursing his ribs, Dexter holding his ears, Penny and Rose having to support each other to stand up, it seemed — but Maggie's was clearly the worst, to the point that three soldiers ran forth to help her to her feet, struggling to keep her upright.

Dahlia blinked, eyes wide, only to hear a small roar as Damien clapped his hands over his head, before shouting "What's the meaning of this? Where's Ratchet's head?"

Maggie snarled, spitting and coughing as she spoke. "We got fuckin' ambushed!"

"WHAT!" Dahlia's eyes went even wider, running over to where Maggie was being propped up, and kneeling down to look at her. "You don't expect me to believe that you, my-! . . . my chief of security, of all people, were so careless!"

"I wasn't!" Maggie spoke up, clearing her throat. "Someone gave away our position! We detonated the collars we had, but safe to say, we're not happy with the results."

Dahlia raised an eyebrow, standing up. "So there's a mole involved?"

"Come on, do I look like someone who would sabotage myself? One of those bitches damn well chewed up my muscles! If I'm not careful I'll end up with Mother's metal leg on top of everything else!" Maggie growled, stomping her good foot.

For a moment Dahlia's face went slightly green under all that white makeup, before turning to ask, "Then who gave you away, Little Arch?"

"HER!" Maggie growled, pointing at Courtney. "Seize her! Don't let her get away! She's been spying on us for weeks!"

"What?" Courtney yelped, trying to boot but finding herself rooted to the spot by five soldiers.

Damien blinked, his hands still on his head, but slowly, surely, he brought his hands down, walking forward with a pair of little dragon wings poking out through his hair, now that Damien had more important things for his hands to do rather than hide his tiny wings. "Courtney? Is this true?"

"NO! I hate that Lombax! I hate all of them!" Courtney growled. "Why would I help any of them, let alone him?"

"Don't you dare buy that!" Maggie hissed. "Look, I've already documented ONE breech of security when she made a call in to the _San Andreas_! What's to stop me from thinking she's made more calls?"

Dahlia blinked, stunned. "_San Andreas_? As in the military plate?"

Maggie nodded. "Where did you think that nice ambush we had a few days back probably came from?"

"You would know best . . ." Dahlia stood up, dusting herself off. "Anything to say for yourself, Miss Gears?"

"But I didn't!" Courtney wailed again. "I'd NEVER help that Lombax! All of those big-eared freaks can burn in hell!"

The room began to collectively growl on that remark, as Courtney realized that the Hobbits didn't take too kindly to being called 'big-eared freaks' either. Damien's head-wings fluttered slightly in shock as well. "You're not helping your case as much as you think you are. At best you're a careless bucket of bolts, and at worst you're a complete traitor. Neither weighs well on you."

"Please . . ." Courtney whined once more. "You've got to believe me! Okay, so I made a call to the _San Andreas_. I was just talking to Paris! I swear!"

"You know we can't trust your word now . . ." Dahlia spoke up. "Rose, Jack; are you two healthy enough to come over here? I need Miss Gears forcibly shut down and rebooted . . ." She turned again, looking into the robot's eyes. "Preferably with a few new safeguards installed."

"No!" Courtney whined. "I'm a good robot! I don't need new software!"

Jack tsked, shaking his head. "I wouldn't trust any new software on you, Miss Gears. Unfortunately . . . I believe it's time we went to the heart of the matter. Or the kernel of the matter, as it may be."

Rose slipped behind Courtney, a hand on the robot's hip, but Courtney's attention was all on Jack now, her eyes wide. "But I love my Operating System . . . please . . . you can't do this to me!"

"You should have behaved better, Miss Gears." Jack spoke up. "Hopefully we won't damage your personality software once we're through porting you over to Nemesis OS. Goodbye, Courtney."

Courtney Gears spoke up to cry out again, but Rose's hand had finally slipped to a spot just concealed by Courtney's skirt, pressing into it to force the robot to shut down. A moment later, Rose hefted Courtney's shell over one shoulder, much to Maggie's delight. Even Dahlia had a hard time concealing a smile, while Damien's wings flapped in joy, even as he tried to fold them up and hide them underneath his red hair once more.

Dahlia glanced down at Maggie again. "So, now that she's dealt with . . . you mentioned having detonated a few collars . . ."

"Naturally, once we realized our situation, we did what we felt necessary to complete our mission." Maggie spoke up, trying to make it sound as devestating as possible. "We managed a pair of casualties, including our 'objective'. Once we were certain of our situation, we returned here . . . at a price, mind you, but nothing compared to the one we made them pay."

"Excellent." Damien smiled. "Now, perhaps if you can be more specific . . ."

"How specific do I need to be?" Maggie raised an eyebrow, before pulling out her scimitar, the blade having gone pink at the edges. "I saw Ratchet's head roll. I drove this blade through the stomach of Jigsaw. If those two survived that, we have more problems than terrifying henchmen will fix."

Dahlia raised an eyebrow. "Did they?"

"We left rather quickly after that point." Maggie remarked. "Rest assured, we had no reason to believe they didn't."

"Very well, then." Miss Avon turned to Damien, tapping her parasol ahead of her. "I told you they could handle the task. I don't see any reason to keep you standing here much longer."

"So they can work together." Damien remarked. "I'm not convinced yet."

"Nor will you ever be. But for now, you're free to go." Dahlia waved her hand, watching as Damien turned and left, her eyes keenly watching to see when she thought Damien was safely out of range, before spinning around at a rate she shouldn't have been able to accomplish in a hoop skirt, landing a backhand across Maggie's face so hard that the slap echoed through the hangar.

Rose and Jack both snapped their heads back to look, while Dexter and Penny just dropped their jaws in shock. Maggie fell to the floor, mewling as Dahlia held her parasol up to Maggie's chest now, poking her with it. Maggie pulled herself up on her elbows, stunned." . . . the hell?"

"If you were telling the truth, you wouldn't have been so vague about the details." Dahlia growled. "At least, you weren't telling the full truth. You know full well about how Jigsaw and those around her have that pesky habit of only_ looking_ dead, which is why I asked you to return with proof of Ratchet's demise. And you also know what I wanted for proof."

"Collars tend not to leave much-! Oh . . ." Maggie glared, looking up. "We didn't exactly have time to pick up 'proof', Miss Avon."

"If you had time to sink your sword into the stomach of the 'Vampire', you had time enough to flay Ratchet too."

Maggie blinked, almost unable to comprehend what she was being asked. "I don't think we'll be able to retrieve his tattoo for you."

"I know you won't. That's why half your face is a welt for now." Dahlia narrowed her eyes. "Ratchet and Jigsaw are both difficult quarries, I understand this. I might almost be able to accept that perhaps asking for their deaths is too much to ask of you and your siblings, in spite of your pedigree . . . but that doesn't mean I'll let you suffer failure with a smile."

Dahlia stepped away before she now glanced over at Dexter and Penny, who ran to their sister's side. "Run her to the medical labs; I've wasted enough time with her. I don't know what kind of creature tore into that leg of hers, but I know flesh-eating wounds when I see them."

"Flesh-eating . . .?" Maggie blinked, before looking down at her leg, and noticing that the wound had indeed grown, and the edges of her wound were quickly turning grey. "No one told me she could do that!"

"I recommend you hurry while you can save enough of her leg to regrow the calf. I imagine she'd rather have to put up with a brace than a full prosthesis." Dahlia spoke, and soon Penny was running, carrying frozen-in-shock Maggie in her arms.

With that, much of the crowd began to disperse, aside from the small honor guard that flanked just behind Dahlia, walking with her as she returned to her offices. Anyone glancing at Dahlia as she turned to leave would have noticed that the corners of her mouth were flashing back just enough to bear teeth, as though through a facial tic, as she muttered, "I hate it when history decides to repeat itself . . ."


	34. Back Where We Started

_I can't get rid of you  
I don't know what to do  
I don't even know who is growing on who  
'Cos everywhere I go you're there  
I can't get you out of my hair  
I can't pretend that I don't care — it's not fair  
I'm being punished for all my offences  
I wanna touch you but I'm afraid of the consequences  
I wanna banish you from whence you came  
But you're part of me now  
And I've only got myself to blame . . . ._

- "Growing on Me" by The Darkness

**Chapter 33  
Back Where We Started**

* * *

"So . . . how's it feel to survive a decapitation?" Adari'a smirked, looking down at Ratchet as he left the bathroom, his hands busy with tying Jigsaw's robe around him. "You certainly look like you're doing well . . ." 

He shrugged, glancing up at her. "Still have this itchy feeling all over . . ."

She nodded, offering an arm out. "Hey, that's normal; you're still getting used to how your body feels again. At least you didn't have to regrow the entire thing — you don't know naked until you've seen yourself in a nanovat without skin on."

"Eww . . ." Ratchet winced, then blinked, grabbing onto Adari'a's wrist. "Hang on, where are the teethmarks? I thought Jigsaw bit you."

"Same way she healed you up — just took less effort because I only had a few puncture marks." She blushed slightly, smoothing the fur out at the site on her arm. "The benefits of a blood kiss, I suppose."

He nodded, suddenly becoming aware that he was standing there in only a woman's bathrobe, before cinching it up, his arms in front of him. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know where she is?"

"Off hand I'd say she was checking up on Al and Dimitri. Dimitri's still freaked out, I think, and Al's only just come to."

"Should probably check up on him myself then. Thanks!" Ratchet spoke up, before walking past Adari'a, grazing one hand over her flank. The taur bristled, but then smirked as she watched him walk off.

Clank was the first to greet him at the door of the back room, almost right as the door opened. "You're looking well, Ratchet."

"Never better!" Ratchet kneeled down, picking Clank up. "You have no idea how much I missed you . . ."

"Er . . . Ratchet, we were only imprisoned for three days." Clank blinked, confused.

"What? A guy can't miss his robot?" Ratchet remarked, hugging Clank tightly. "Just feels like it's been forever."

I missed you too, Ratchet." Clank finally responded in kind, hugging Ratchet back. The two held each other for a moment until Ratchet stood up, walking over to where Jigsaw was busy trying to catch Big Al up with what he'd missed.

" . . .so once we had them on the run, we were able to get Ratchet and myself healed up without too much further trouble." Jigsaw quipped with a smile on her face. "It's a shame you missed it."

"So why is Dimitri still giving you the evil eye over there?" Al pointed over at a slightly-twitchy Dimitri, who was sitting on the far side of the couch, eyeing Jigsaw fearfully.

"I . . . got a little carried away. He'll be fine once he gets used to seeing actual combat." She remarked, but then had to lean forward to keep the seat from tipping over as Dimitri leapt up and used the back of the couch to pounce on Ratchet, knocking him to the floor.

"Ratchi!" Dimitri grinned, before tightly hugging Ratchet, apparently at a loss for words.

"Easy there, boy . . ." Ratchet spoke up, before blinking as he noticed that Dimitri's pounce had dragged him about two feet out of his clothing. "So tell me, do you pounce the clothes off everyone you meet, or are you just happy to see me?"

Jigsaw turned around to look after Ratchet said that, and she whistled, standing up to walk over to his position. "You know, you two look cute like that . . ."

Dimitri quickly backed off once he realized what he'd done, grabbing the robe in a hurried frenzy to cover Ratchet up. Jigsaw chuckled, 'covering' her eyes for a moment as the two quickly tried to make Ratchet decent again. ((Sorry! Didn't mean to!))

"Woah, woah . . . it's all right, Dimitri, I'm glad to see you too." Ratchet offered a hand out, an uneasy chuckle on his face. "As for you . . . looks like your legs are working a little better."

"I'm feeling more at ease on them now, certainly." She cast a sidelong glance over at Ratchet. "Just glad you're taking to it well. I can do without my legs a lot better than you can do with just a head."

"You mean there was a chance you messed up putting my head back on?"

"Well, attaching a head is a bit more complicated than attaching other limbs . . . and repairing nervous tissue isn't my specialty." Jigsaw winced. "It's not something I'm used to. Honestly? I was worried when Dimitri tackled you that he'd knock the spinal cord out of alignment and paralyze you."

Ratchet blinked, then held his neck. "Okay, now you're scaring me here. This isn't another slip test, right?"

"No, I've just never done this before on a decorpitation." Jigsaw shrugged. "First time for everything. Hopefully by the time we're back on Veldin it'll be clear if there's any problems or not."

"Speaking of 'first times' . . ." Ratchet glanced over at her. "Something tells me it's not quite safe to take you up on your offer yet. Am I going to end up unable to move if we try anything right now?"

Jigsaw laughed, taking Ratchet by the hand before pulling him in closer. "Only if we do it right."

Al's eyes went wide, his sight darting back and forth between the two flirting Lombaxes. "Wait a minute, you and- . . . you're going to- . . . can I watch, at least?"

Both of them barked on instinct. "NO!"

"Aw . . ." Al blushed, scratching the back of his neck. "Not even in the name of science?"

"Science can go find its own muff." Ratchet shot back, putting one hand around Jigsaw protectively. "I think I'm entitled to a little privacy here."

"At least for what passes for privacy on this ship."Jigsaw shrugged, before she moved in close, her shoulder against Ratchet's. She then blinked, casting an eye over towards Dimitri, whose brain was going off like a nagging alarm at seeing Jigsaw so close to Ratchet. _And you can calm down . . . I'm not going to hurt him._

_Will see about that._ Dimitri kept his eyes on them, still nervous as he watched the two walk off and away from him. Once the door shut, he sighed, holding his head as Clank walked back towards him. ((Stupid . . . ))

((What wrong?)) Clank spoke up, glancing back towards the door. ((Jealous?))

((Protective . . . a kind of jealous, I guess.)) Dimitri sat down on the floor, looking over at Clank. ((I started worrying back in prison. Ratchet. . . reminds me of Newton. Clever, bold, selfless . . . )) Dimitri stopped for a moment, putting his hands down, before bowing his head again.

Clank's eyes bowed back in a look of concern, before shaking Dimitri's shoulder so he could read Clank's response. ((You don't want to lose him again.))

((Exactly.)) Dimitri gestured back, glancing up at Clank with a simpering look on his face. ((Wish I could talk with him right. . .))

Clank nodded, then blinked, taking a step back in shock. ((Dimitri, do you still have that prototype of the device you had when we rescued you?))

((Course I do. Why?))

Clank smiled. ((I have an idea.))

While Clank and Dimitri started to chatter among themselves, Ratchet followed Jigsaw to a new doorway in the ship which opened up for them. Ratchet seemed taken aback almost immediately at the veritable sea of padding at his feet, stepping gingerly onto it as he scanned around the room, noting a few pillows of fluff and a panoramic window of the local starscape, along with some slightly gauzy curtains, all in reds, golds, and blues, showing up sharply against the black padding and linens on the room's floor.

Jigsaw smirked as she noticed Ratchet looking around. "You like it?"

"I'm going to take a wild guess and assume this is the bedroom." Ratchet remarked, turning back to look at her. "Which if it is, you are entirely too overdressed for it."

"I'd say I'm dressed perfectly for now." She remarked, shutting the door behind her. "After all, you're the one wanting this . . ."

Ratchet blinked, before catching on, with a distinct leer in his eyes. "Hey, you're the one coming on to me. 'Different kind of relax' my tail . . ."

"You've been wanting to take me since we picked up Dimitri!"

"Yeah? You messed up the first match because you couldn't stand to do the job right!"

"Something you ought to be thankful for than not . . . but no matter." Jigsaw walked forward, tapping a button on her armor . . . which promptly fell apart with a clatter, leaving her in in a tattered mess of her street clothes as she looked down at the armor in shock. "That sword did more damage than I thought . . . I guess the armor's not as resiliant as I am."

"Meh, fuck the armor." Ratchet remarked, taking hold of Jigsaw's hand.

She chuckled, laughing as Ratchet pulled her down to the padding. "But I thought you wanted _me_!"

Ratchet purred, sitting up to look down at her now. "Well, once you're on your knees, we'll start things off the way we should've from the start." He smirked, then blinked as he noticed Jigsaw's face wasn't giving him the look he'd hoped for.

"You first, Ratchet." She shot back. "We both know you need the 'practice'."

"Hey, who's the hero around here?" He snapped back, taking hold of her shoulders.

"Who needed the rescuing lately?" She remarked, taking hold of his shoulders as well, a mischevious glint in her eyes. "But don't worry . . . I'll make it worth your while."

Ratchet blinked, letting go of her, even while Jigsaw still had a grip on his shoulders. "Look, just because I've not done this before doesn't mean I'm going to turn into a quiv-." He paused, as Jigsaw put her hands on either side of his face, and for a moment he saw himself — not a mental image, but actually seeing himself through Jigsaw's eyes, his mind slightly awash in her current thoughts atop his own. "How are you doing this?"

"Well, unless you want me broadcasting any 'intense' feelings from this point onward to the rest of the ship . . . I suggest we make sure we're too caught up in each other's minds to do that, hm?" Jigsaw grinned, before taking hold of her left ear, tugging slightly on her earrings just so she could see Ratchet gasp upon realizing just what kind of link she was offering him.

Ratchet nodded, suddenly short on both breath and blood. "That would probably be a really, _really_ good idea . . ."

With this, she grinned, and then turned towards a nearby speaker-grille. "Gangrel, make sure that we're not disturbed for the next couple of hours. Priority Level One, please."

"Understood, Captain." Gangrel remarked, but then tacked on, "So you're informed, I'm keeping my security routines as normal."

"As I would've expected." Jigsaw smirked, even though her mind was now keenly focused on Ratchet's, as she stood up to make sure he was currently kneeling down.

"Also, you may be interested to know that-"

"Gangrel, unless it's Priority Level One, let Cypress handle it." Jigsaw remarked. "She's the only one on the bridge anyway."

"Actually, Cypress is near Engineering with the others." Gangrel noted, chuckling. "I'll gladly inform her she's allowed to decide if she and the others are allowed to watch the current security feed or not."

Ratchet and Jigsaw's ears both perked up in shock at once. "Except THAT!"

* * *

_ End of Episode One: Enter The Lombax_

* * *

(And . . . Author's Notes Time!) 

Damn, I thought I'd have been done by now. What was going to be a one-month summer project has quickly taken on a life of its own, including (but damn well not limited to) a comic booklet that I've been giving out at local conventions, a fresh DeviantArt account (at http/jekkal. ), a 300KB personal Wiki-on-a-Stick with more world-building than I really want to get into . . . safe to say, I've gone nuts.

A few things before we get into the next part of the story, which ought to include (assuming I don't come up with anything better) more DreadZone goodness, Courtney Gears and her 'new attitude', some sweet new armor for Ratchet and company, the season premire of _Cirque du Mortis_ . . . and hopefully a good bit more before I do something crazy like put the story aside for NaNoWriMo so I can work on the 'original-ified' version of Jigsaw's DreadZone adventures.

#1 ) If you've not been commenting up to this point, PLEASE for the love of all that's holy review this chapter and give me some decent feedback on the now-completed episode! I feed off of the reviews you all write, both for motivation and inspiration (and don't take that to mean I always do what you say . . . but getting the extra bounce off of people's heads changes things), and if you haven't been a good review-per-chapter reader, it's harder for me to tell who's really getting into my work! I take the time to respond to most reviews if you ask questions in them, even, so it's worth your time and mine.

#2 ) Please check my author's profile for more VoV-related stories, including several oneshots, since some of the newer readers might've missed them. They can't be included with the rest of the story because they occur at times not covered in the story, but still include some great scenes — Captain Qwark's run-in with Daisy Archanis, Ace Hardlight's secret rendezvous with Jigsaw, and even Hydro Girl's 'party' that she threw just before our current story began. Reviews in these stories are appreicated as well (even more than the ones in VoV, because the spin-offs don't end up read as much).

#3 ) I'm very accessible to new and old readers alike if you want to get in touch with me; either message me through my account or ask me to email you if you want to keep up with all of the Vampire-related works.

#4 ) If you have any sort of pride in your artistic skills whatsoever . . . I'm always looking for artists and fanart, mostly because even I'll admit I have entirely too many characters to keep up with by myself! If you feel like drawing up Geisha (or White Noise, or Jack and Dexter) or mocking up some group shots, contact me so I can make sure we're on the same wavelength.

That's all for now, so until the end of the next episode (which is God-knows-when) . . . Sweet dreams!

- Jekkal


	35. E2: The Crown Princess of Chaos

_Episode Two: Galaxy of Heroes_

* * *

_Don't need this path before me  
Don't need forgotten glory  
Don't need these threats of violence  
Don't need eternal silence  
Don't need these midnight visions  
Don't need to make decisions  
Don't need to be uncertain  
Don't need this final curtain . . .  
_  
- "Mephistopheles's Return" by Trans-Siberian Orchestra 

**Chapter 34  
The Crown Princess of Chaos**

* * *

"For the last time, NO, I can't hear with all this gauze on!" Slick growled as the medic bandaged his head. "Not very well, at least." 

"We've got no choice then. We need to find a replacement Lieutenant for Jigsaw for the final event." Nathaniel remarked, leaning his head over towards his uncle. "That or let her perform by herself, but . . ."

"We can't let that happen. I won't risk having my show championed by that . . . that . . ."

"Human?" Nathaniel offered, giving Gleeman a knowing glance.

Gleeman returned a hard glare. "Having a criminal in the Head Exterminator position means that whoever it is will end up 'coloring' our reputation. Ace would have been perfect; Adari'a would have been great, Jigsaw's acceptable . . . but we're two down."

Nathaniel shrugged. "White Noise would be okay. He's old, he's repentant. I could easily push him as a born-again."

"But the woman's trouble."

"She's no good at this point. She's here on a goddamn plea-bargain — read: no prior time served — and probably one of our worst offenders on top of that! We'll get lambasted!" Nathaniel grumbled. "Honestly, I'm shocked you let her into tonight's events."

"I had to! The fucking contracts say that they all need to be given a shot, and they're already eying me over her cold sleep malfunction." Gleeman spoke up, before blinking and noticing the stroke of fur that ran past him. "Once again, you're sure those aren't broadcasting cameras over there . . ."

"Slick!" Jigsaw spoke up, jumping up onto the table to sit next to the bandaged Lombax. "Are they going to be able to grow your ears back?"

"Not fast enough." Slick spoke, before blinking. "Hang on . . . I didn't hear that, but I still . . . weird."

Jigsaw blinked, then shook his shoulder again. "You feel up for going back out there?"

"Are you mad?" Nathaniel turned to take note of the budding conversation. "He's legally deaf right now!"

"I've been practicing with Slick all week. Your point?" Jigsaw shot back, her hand still on Slick's shoulder.

"You need an partner who can actually hear right now. Rest assured of that." Nathaniel spoke up, but then saw Jigsaw helping Slick off the table. "Where are you taking him?"

"To find a scarf to cover those bandages."

"What, are you deaf by association with him? HE'S CRIPPLED! Both of you, get back in-!" Nathaniel growled, then stopped as he watched the two leave the room. "Idiots. We're surrounded by heroic idiots!"

Gleeman coughed out a laugh, before crowing, "Why do you think I suggested we use criminals for the show in the first place?"

"I don't know if I can do the next round, 'Saw . . ." Slick spoke up, looking at her.

"Please, you have to!" Jigsaw whimpered, taking hold of one of Slick's arms. "We've been training too long for this!"

"I suggest you take your mutilated friend's advice."

Jigsaw blinked, looking up to see a bald human male looking down at the pair, clad only in a pale orange robe. Jigsaw blinked, looking up at the old man. "You . . . you're the vampire, aren't you?"

"Merely the misunderstood." The man smiled, even though he shied away from Jigsaw when she offered out her hand. "Call me Qin'Xu."

She nodded, keeping her eyes on him, curious. "So what are you here for?"

"I wish to offer my services to you in place of your injured friend." Qin smiled, looking down at Jigsaw. "You need a healthy associate to help you in this next challenge. I can be that associate."

Jigsaw glanced up at Qin'Xu, then back at Slick, and she wrapped an arm around Slick's shoulders again. "Thank you, Cain, but I'll stick with my lieutenant as he is."

"I don't think you want to refuse my assistance, youngblood." Qin looked down at her, almost glaring. "You need my services."

Jigsaw blinked, giving Qin'Xu a soft glare. "Let me finish this episode, Cain. After that, I'll be glad to talk with you if you still wish to join my squad and give me further 'assistance'."

"Very well. I shall speak to you later, youngblood." Qin smiled, before walking off, leaving Jigsaw to watch him go.

Slick blinked, noting Jigsaw's eyes on Cain. "What was that all about?"

"I'm not sure . . ." Jigsaw raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Slick. "Come on, though. You need your grapples and I need my guitar."

"We can't!" Slick shouted up, not realizing how loud he was. "Cypress said no lethal force. I'm pretty sure the bladed edge on your 'axe' counts."

"So I'll take my violin, then." Jigsaw spoke up as she led him down the corridor. "I get the feeling we shouldn't be going in unarmed, even if they're only 'so' good."

_. . . and now, back to the show! . . ._

"Welcome back, folks!" Dallas spoke up just as Zodiac finished up what looked to be a difficult routine involving a web of grindrails. "If you're just tuning in, you've missed some incredible halftime stunts from our resident Vidian criminal!"

"I'm just relieved that he was willing to work on such short notice . . ." Cypress spoke up, a slight tone of exasperation in her voice. "But thankfully, we've managed to get the situation regarding Slick and his injury under control, and we'll be going both Jigsaw and him out here in a few minutes for our final event!"

Dallas blinked, but recovered quickly. "Now that's a trooper, Cypress! Say . . . what is our final event?"

"Well, I can't give all the details away yet . . ." Cypress smirked as she watched her Exterminators and their lieutenants taking to the field; the only real 'new' detail was in the large blue scarf that Slick wore on his head to hide the bandages. "But rest assured, you'll enjoy it."

Jigsaw glanced around the field, to Daisy and to White Noise, giving a each of them a nod in turn. "All right, Slick; all we have to do here is let her win."

"Are you nuts?" Slick spoke up. "I thought you wanted to be captain!"

"Yes, but if we don't let her place, then we don't get rid of Ace and Geisha."

Slick blinked, then glared at her. "See, there's a flaw in that. If Ace is not an exterminator, then both he and Geisha will end up on someone's team, and they will raise hell. More to the point, they may end up raising hell right under both of us."

"You don't think the Voxes would-?"

"Hey, they assigned the two of us together . . ." Slick shrugged, glancing out at the field. "Let's just see what they've gotten us into this time."

Not long after his saying that, a navy-cloaked figure appeared in the center of the arena, the face obscured. Dallas was all too eager to speak up. "Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls and-children-of-all-ages, DreadZone is pround to present the Final Round of the first-ever Extermination Tournament, the Gladiator's Gauntlet! We've found a secret celebrity guest to 'assist' us with this round. Whoever defeats our secret opponent OR is the last Exterminator left standing, wins!"

"They're joking, right?" Jigsaw blinked, stepping forward. "Who'd they bring in?"

"Well, the body's a little too thin for Captain Qwark . . ." Slick spoke, then chuckled. "Course, that doesn't narrow it down much."

"After you, madame." Silk chuckled, performing a short bow in Daisy's direction.

"Your 'chivalry' knows no bounds, I'm sure." Daisy remarked, walking forward. "Honestly, I haven't been asked to go first since my days in the Synthesis."

A new voice shouted up quickly. "In the WHAT?"

The figure whipped off her cloak in a hurry, and Daisy just barely had a chance to shout "Oh, SHI-!" before being blasted backwards with a forceful series of shockwaves.

Spyro quickly backed up to check on his 'captain, while White Noise's jaw just dropped in shock, along with the other men in the arena, and even Jigsaw's eyes went wide. "No . . . way . . . "

"Ladies and gentlemen, say hello to Scout Marcadia!" Cypress grinned, as the cameras finally caught sight of the golden, glittering, short-skirted spectacle before Cypress slipped into a more 'commentative' tone. "Leader of the once-proud heroine collective known as the Solana Scouts, this recent successor is one Cazar who knows how to kick massive amounts of ass and do it all with a smile!"

"And I'm guessing that whatever Daisy said to set her off can't be good!" Dallas beemed. "You're right though; I do like this event! Hey, Camera Three, get that panty shot!"

"So much for Daisy winning this event easily." Slick coughed out as he regained his senses. "Where are you going?"

"Where does it look like?" Jigsaw managed out, running behind the scout while maintaining a wide arc. White Noise was trying to maintain a more lateral position, while the scout kept pressing forward, sending series after series of shockwaves that were even starting to affect Spyro now, warping the plates of his exterior.

"Get away from her, wyrm!" Marcadia hissed, raising her staff high. "This is between that bitch and the scouts' honor!"

White Noise's ears went straight up. "Daisy, what did you _do_?"

"Now hang on, that was a-! GYH!" Daisy managed out again, just before a massive wave of energy came to knock her down, and soon her metal leg had skittered and spun across the field, leaving Daisy on the floor of the arena, shielding her face.

"What _did_ she do?" Dallas blinked, turning back to Cypress.

"I'm not sure . . . she shouldn't have gone berzerk like this!" Cypress spoke up. "Especially since we couldn't 'neuter' Marcadia's weaponry to make it non-lethal."

"Wait a minute, she's lethal?" Jigsaw blinked, then glared at the scout as she pulled out her violin. Damned if she'd ever tried this on anything sentient, but . . .

Slick slipped a few meters away from Jigsaw, latching onto Marcadia's staff with one of his grapples, but only ended up skidding across the floor once a tug from the scout pulled him down. The Cazar woman turned around to see Jigsaw standing there, but she only smirked at seeing the violinist, then turned her attention to White Noise and Aeris. "Sands of Marcadia!"

"GAH!" The Anyr and Celeste both moved to cover their faces as grains of heat and grit flew off the ground, kicking right up into them.

"Excellent . . . now, you all stay put while I put this succubus out of her misery." Marcadia smirked, turning her back to Jigsaw, tiptoeing her way towards the mad scientist.

"Oh, hell no . . ." Jigsaw grumbled, before stepping forward, ready to play. "Of all the people I've wanted dead today, she's not it!"

Her bow began to run against the strings, catching Marcadia's attention momentarily. "Hm? A little music for the death-march? How quaint."

"I don't know what you want with the human, but this isn't right." Jigsaw spoke, continuing her music. "You're here to face all of us, not just her."

"She's responsible for the deaths of at least four scouts and the mutilation of dozens more! Don't tell me what you think!" Marcadia glared, her staff beginning to glow with a readying charge. "Don't you dare try to interfere."

"Look, I'm not about to pretend I even know what some woman did or didn't do . . ." Jigsaw spoke, walking closer in slow, sure steps. "I'm reasonably certain that whatever you're about to do to her is a touch extreme nontheless. Now, listen to me . . . you're here to take all of us on, not just her. Kill her if you like, but please, be fair about it."

Marcadia thought about this for a moment, then shrugged. "Suit yourself, then. I don't mind killing all of you; I'm sure you're all guilty of _something_, after all. Thanks for the advice, though; I'll save yours for last." She spoke, before she turned her back on a snarling Jigsaw and started stepping closer to the crippled scientist. "I'm amazed how generous your new 'buddies' are."

"Don't mistake a clever ruse for generosity, now . . ." Daisy hissed, now kneeling as she stabilized herself on one foot. "And so we're clear on this, they're not my 'buddies'."

"Well, in a few minutes that won't matter." Marcadia chuckled, raising her staff high. "Any last words?"

Daisy blinked, hearing the start of Jigsaw's music, before glancing back at Marcadia with a smile, her crutches full extended now. "Just a simple request . . . your form's off. You need to be holding it a litte higher and with your hands tilted back so you don't have to deal with your chest being in the way quite so much."

Marcadia blinked, then lowered her staff, suspicious. "Why should I listen to you?"

"Because, dear girl, with over twenty years' experience in 'the business', I know a thing or two about fighting scantily-clad women . . . not to mention it makes it at least a little harder for me to do this."

"Yi!" The scout yelped, caught off guard as one of Daisy's crutches came up, striking the girl in the face. Jigsaw glanced back just long enough to see the others creeping in closer, readying to strike as Marcadia slowly realized something wasn't right. "That's not . . . what's happening?"

"Fire!" White Noise shouted out, and soon Aeris was sending a flurry of feathered darts forth to pierce Marcadia, causing her to scream and shield her face. Spyro quickly righted himself, running over to collect Daisy by the scruff of her outfit, pulling her away from the scout.

Slick came in closer, nervous but quickly regaining his confidence as he ran up and leapt on Marcadia's back. "Sorry, sweetheart, but this place is a package deal!"

"Get away from me! You're letting her escape!" Marcadia hissed, reaching out to claw him.

"Aeris! More plumes!" White Noise ordered, before trotting over towards her. "Scared, child?"

"Never!" Marcadia shouted, tossing Slick off her back and into White Noise. "Now get out of my way!"

Jigsaw kept her music up, her eyes now focusing onto White Noise, and in that instant, White Noise's demeanor switched over much like Daisy's did. "_Do you think I'm scared? Tell me, does it show?_"

"What is this, a bad music video?" Marcadia blinked, taken aback as Slick scrambled onto White Noise's shoulders. Her eyes darted back to Jigsaw, still playing her violin, and this time her eyes narrowed. "Something about that music . . ."

"Come on, I thought you wanted me to play!" Jigsaw smirked, keeping her music up. Marcadia turned to raise her staff high, but this time found her grip broken by the piercing strike of a grapple, causing her to drop the staff.

"All right, scout, let's see what you really have in you!" Slick smirked, still astride White Noise as he ran in to pick up Marcadia's staff.

"What the . . .? Fiends!" Marcadia shouted out, chasing after White Noise and Slick, who was now holding out Marcadia's staff in a pose reminiscent of a jouster. "You'll pay for this! Sands of Marcadia!"

This time, however, White Noise found it easy to dodge the scout's attack, and she missed. The Anyr laughed out a hard cackle. "What's the matter, scout? That trick only works once?"

"That shouldn't have . . . no man should . . ." Marcadia began to snarl, before turning her attention to Jigsaw again. "You . . ."

Jigsaw blinked, then tightened her grip on her violin, taking a few steps back. She'd only done this before on those anklebiters, at least in combat . . . something just wasn't making it work on Marcadia nearly as well . . .

"When I get my hands on you, I'm going to re-string your violin with-!" She managed out, before Spyro charged back in, getting between Jigsaw and the scout, with Daisy now back on Spyro's shoulders. "Ah, you . . . back to try and take me on now that your minion's done the dirty work . . ."

"She's not my minion." Daisy growled, landing gingerly so her leg didn't pop off once more. "And at any rate . . . you're no better, attacking a scientist while she's down . . . but now . . ."

Daisy launched herself forward on her crutches, nailing Marcadia in the jaw with her metal leg, knocking Marcadia to the ground. The Cazar rolled, but soon righted herself enough to stand back up. Aeris swooped in, tugging on Marcadia's ears; she quickly shifted her attention to the one-eyed Celeste, paying almost no notice to Slick and White Noise, almost beside her.

"At the risk of making a habit out of this . . ." Slick laughed, running past Marcadia while shooting out his gauntlets, grappling onto both of the bows of her body, ripping them free. A fair amount of her skirt went with the bows, but Marcadia's medallion was now dangling from her collar by a few threads.

"Woo! Go Slick! Get the rest!" Dallas crowed, arms waving wildly.

"I don't have words for this . . ." Cypress blinked, holding her eyes with one hand. "It appears that our Exterminators are not only gaining the upper hand, they're working together!"

Dallas blinked. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

The Zillan snarled at him. "Because it IS! The whole point of them being in teams is to . . . oh, Goddess . . ."

Jigsaw lurched forward again, muttering words under her breath as she once again came in closer to Marcadia, trying to lure her more and more into an untenable position.

"You . . . I would have had her if not for you . . ." Marcadia dashed forward for Jigsaw, dodging past Aeris, her face wide in a snarl. "You trecherous . . . traitorous . . ."

A hard whack upside the head from White Noise, though, and soon Marcadia was on the floor. Jigsaw blinked and looked up to see White Noise standing beside Marcadia's form, holding the scout's staff on his shoulder. "What? I was supposed to let her hit you?"

"Not at all." Jigsaw smirked, walking forward to poke Marcadia with her bow, noting her twitching. "I think she's down."

"Then we're done, right?" White Noise blinked, looking at Jigsaw.

"Hang on, she's WHAT?" Cypress spoke, jaw agape.

Dallas recovered rather quickly for once. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the round is over but due to, er . . . oh, hell, 'technical difficulties', we cannot announce the winner at this time."

"They weren't meant to work together . . ." Cypress hissed to herself once more, before tapping her headset. "Er, 'judges'? You better decide this one quickly . . ."

The players all started to congreate around the prone scout, looking down at her. Only Daisy seemed to have the nerve to bend over and pluck Marcadia's medallion from her uniform, and quickly the nanotech within the uniform (and the minute amounts of said uniform still attatched to Slick's grapples) quickly ran back inside the medallion, leaving a leotard-clad Cazar on the floor of the arena.

"I think I liked the old Marcadia better." Daisy glanced down.

"Now will you tell us what the hell that was all about?" White Noise glared. "Because if any more skirts are going to try and kill us all upon sight of you, I'd like some disclosure."

"I think I'd like to wait until our 'fair lady' gets the hell off the station in case she makes any more attempts on me . . ." Daisy coughed, embarassed.

"Translation: I don't want to admit to anything new on live holovision?" Aeris spoke, chuckling under his breath.

Daisy glared at him. "Not while the game's young, at least."

"What next?" Jigsaw looked up, noting the state of disarray in the announcer's booth. "I think we've throughly conked-up their scoring system."

"Well . . ." The Anyr shrugged, sheepish. "I managed the last blow on her, and I led a lot of the actual assaults, so I'm pretty sure I should be captain at this point. As for you two . . ." White Noise glanced back between the two girls, then narrowed his eyes at Daisy. "You, stand down."

"What?" Daisy narrowed her eyes back, glaring.

"If half the people we come across react to you the way she did, it's for your own good as well as ours. Besides, you would've been dead if Jigsaw hadn't stepped in to try and talk her down — and I have to had it to her, it takes a lot of nerve for anyone to try and take on a scout with just a violin. Though I'm still wondering what was with that music of hers . . ."

"I had to do something . . ." Jigsaw blushed, putting her violin up on her back. "And it worked, right? She was too distracted to aim properly, I was able to get you guys back into action."

Daisy glanced at White Noise, who then shared a nod, and Daisy glanced back at Jigsaw, a thinly-hid look of disappointment on her face. "Very well, then. Congratulatons, Forte."

"Even though it means you won't be an exterminator?" Jigsaw blinked, in shock.

Daisy nodded, then shrugged. "I'll live."

"Hey, guys! You in the commentary booth!" White Noise shouted up, before grabbing Jigsaw's hand and raising it high with his own. "Are you all done pretending to be headless chickens?"

Cypress flopped herself over the edge, almost growling now. "Look, we're rather busy trying to figure out-!"

"We already sorted it out." White Noise held Jigsaw up. "I'll be captain and she'll be my second. Just make it official, will you?"

"This is . . . highly unorthodox . . ." Dallas pointed out. "Hang on just a moment."

Jigsaw looked back at White Noise, then at the other players. "Think they'll really go for this?"

"It's either send her and the dragon-bot back into the pool, or Ace and Geisha . . ." White Noise smirked at Jigsaw. "I think I'd rather take my chances with drawing her, wouldn't you?"

"All right, we'll accept it!" Cypress shouted back. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner and Captain of the Exterminators . . . Silk of the Solar Winds! In second place and Exterminator First-Class, Jigsaw Forte!"

"What an unbelievable end to tonight's show, folks!" Dallas exclaimed in mock amazement. "Despite an incredible upset in the first half of the show and a cripping pair of ear amputation injuries, Jigsaw and White Noise are our new top Exterminators! Daisy's back to being an ordinary contestant, and Ace Hardlight's position is safe! But they'll have their work cut out for them next week . . . we're finally cutting these competitors loose on the Shadow Sector! There will be no quarter offered, no quarter given, and no nickels and dimes either!"

"Tune in next week to see our newly forged 'Exterminator Squads' in their very first team challenges! Will they succeed? Will they survive? We'll find out next week, same time as you, on DreadZone!" Cypress signed off, leaving the last few images of DreadZone on White Noise and Jigsaw walking back to their lieutenants, a new swagger in both of their steps.


	36. The Importance of Being Boss

_Your only validation is living your own life  
Vicarious existence is a fucking waste of time  
So I send this song to the offended  
I said what I meant and I've never pretended  
As so many others do intending just to please  
If I damned your point of view  
Could you turn the other cheek . . ._

- "Don't Damn Me" by Guns N' Roses

**Chapter 35  
The Importance of Being Boss**

* * *

"Hang on . . . THAT's your actual color?" Jigsaw blinked, eyes going wide as she looked at the flurry of blues and golds stepping closer to her. "And why the hell would you waste good bolts wanting to look like it again?" 

"One, yes it is, and two, it's a side effect of the nano-distilling process. Apparently 'Make my muscles feel like I'm 30 again' allows for a little leeway." White Noise chuckled, looking down at Jigsaw. "Now the real question is whether people still insist on calling me 'White Noise' or not."

"I doubt it. 'School Spirit' doesn't ring quite as well." Jigsaw chuckled, her hands bracing against the nearby bench. It'd been about six hours since the episode finished, and now people were starting to be skittish about who everyone was going to draw with and what everyone else was going to do to keep alive. Jigsaw, on the other hand, was just hanging around the medical centers waiting for Slick to be okay, and in the meantime replaying in her mind why she couldn't at least have brought something a little more 'battle-ready' than a violin, no matter how useful the violin was. At least maybe then she could've laid a few blows on the scout and given White Noise more 'visual' competition; as it was, the cameras mostly picked up on Slick and White Noise laying down the pain for the majority of the fight. In other words, she didn't have a great claim to contest the results with.

Silk glanced down, tilting his head. "Something got your tongue?"

"I'm just wondering what they plan on doing for the rest of us, 'Captain'." Jigsaw smirked, glancing up at him. Okay, so if she had to deal with having another contestant with rank over her, she was thankful at minimum that it was an old Anyr, and not someone like Ace. To his credit, he did seem to have that nice feel of authority to him.

The Anyr shrugged, dropping back down to all fours out of habit. "I'm pretty sure they're not about to pop you in one of those tanks too. But here, follow me and I'll let you see what they've done with Slick so far."

"As much as I hate to interrupt this little 'reunion' . . ." Damien Vox spoke up, getting both heads to turn towards him instead. "I need to lead you two back towards the arena. We're about to make selections soon."

"Selections?" She blinked, confused.

"For the squads." Damien smirked. "You two get first pick."

White Noise nodded, trotting along with the large lizard, before noting how messy his hair looked now, disheveled in comparison to the previous plait. "What's with you?"

Damien's eyes dropped at the question. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"You look like you've got a bat in your hair." Silk asked again, switching to a two-legged gait to look. "Oh, they're-!"

"Don't touch them!" Damien hissed, and Jigsaw was surprised to see a tiny pair of headwings popping out from his hair. "It's a birthmark."

"Nice." Silk chuckled. "I've met Touched before. They tend to be rather jealous of nice headwings like that."

"I'm not most Touched, okay?" Damien growled, but was now in too much of a hurry to push them back under the hair. "It's not my damned fault Mother won't let me just cut them off . . ."

"She knows what she's doing." Silk remarked, trotting along and just a little bit ahead of Damien, earning a small snarl from the lizard as they went onward. Jigsaw was right behind him, a huge smirk plastered on her face as she tried not to laugh.

A few corridors and punched-in key codes later, the three found themselves on the entranceway to the arena floor, trotting out to see a lineup of chained-down prisoners and 'currently hibernating' robot forms. Jigsaw blinked, but soon found herself walking towards the only person besides them who wasn't chained down; namely, Xanatos sitting in a folding chair, his eyes in a level stare and his tail flickering in non-amusement.

"Having fun?" Jigsaw offered, with a smile on her face.

"I saw what you did with Scout Marcadia earlier today." The Cazar frowned. "I didn't like it."

She frowned, glaring at him. "It was self-defense."

"Tell me, little fiddler, do you even know who the 'Synthesis' were?" Xanatos's eyes narrowed further. Jigsaw shook her head to his, prompting a response of, "If you did you'd understand."

"Look, I'm not in favor of getting more people killed than there need to be today . . ." Jigsaw backed off, glancing around at the other prisoners. "I'll speak to you later."

She spotted White Noise looking over Spyro's shell, before walking along to take note of a sleeping Poison, a 'too-caught-up-in-his-looks' London, and just steered clear of the large, half-withdrawn spidery form of Crater. Something about that robot just bothered her . . .

"Youngblood! Over here!"

She blinked, then caught sight of Cain, sitting there with a series of chains around his wrists and neck, and yet he was still maintaining a rather proud position sitting on the floor; it reminded her of a statue of some ancient god. She blinked, before noting the sense of calm surrounding him. "You still want to offer your advice?"

"In a sense. My advice is to select those who actively seek your guidance." Qin'Xu smiled. "Likewise, I seek your guidance."

"I'm flattered, Cain, but I recommend I have a chance to see who else 'seeks my guidance' before I make a decision." Jigsaw nodded to him, giving him a smile.

Cain returned her smile with a knowing look. "Youngblood, do not leave this arena without me. You cannot afford another 'second place'."

Her eyes fluttered over to Zodiac, tracing along the plays of light on the Vidian's skin. "And you?"

"I can only offer how useful I'll be to you . . . and I know I'm useful." Zodiac grinned. "Don't listen to the old man; he just wants attention from a sweet thing like yourself."

"She needs a sire!" Cain barked, before covering his mouth in wide-eyed shock to regain his composure. Jigsaw's eyes went wide as well, looking back at Cain, then to Zodiac, before walking on.

She stopped just short of Daisy, who was sitting there, still disheveled from the assault earlier, but now with her hands cuffed and chained in front of her. Daisy smirked at Jigsaw, shifting to a kneeling position. "Like what you see?"

"I want to know the truth; The cameras are off and I'm pretty sure six hours is enough time to send Marcadia packing." The Lombax glared at her. "Marcadia said you had quite a bit of blood on your hands . . . was she right?"

"Always the hard questions first? Sign of a bad interrogator . . . but very well." Daisy smiled at her. "It was two decades ago. I was part of a faction known as the 'Synthesis' who spent a year of their time solely on targeting the Solana Scouts. I'll admit to my fair share of carnage, but to blame me for their deaths in the heat of battle is a big mistake. Especially when Quartu herself decided to commit seppuku rather than admit defeat . . ."

"I'm not one to advocate-. Wait . . . that was you?" Jigsaw's eyes went wide, and before Daisy could answer again, Jigsaw ran forward and delivered a hard slap across Daisy's face. "It's no justice to Scout Veldin, but damn it, woman . . ."

"Justice? I let her go eventually!" Daisy hissed. "I digress. I assume you're not interested in my working under your command now that you know, so you should probably-."

"Hell, I actually think I _want_ you for a grunt now."

Daisy blinked, eyes wide. "What?"

"I'm not about to condone your actions." Jigsaw spoke, holding a finger up. "Make no mistake of that. But . . . I still have to at least respect that anyone who managed to take on that many heroines, even as part of a group, should have a reasonable idea of what they were doing. All things considered . . . if you were that dangerous as part of a team once, you can do it again."

Daisy looked shocked for a moment, then smiled. "So nice to have fans of good villainy."

"That and if I let you join anyone else's team, I won't be able to beat the crap out of you over it on nearly as many occasions."

"You conniving little-!" Daisy barked, reaching for Jigsaw but finding herself hard-pressed to. Jigsaw laughed, now starting to pace between Daisy, Zodiac, and Cain, trying to make up her mind. Damien noticed this, and walked over to her.

Damien kneeled down, putting a hand on Jigsaw's shoulder. "Are we deciding?"

"Well, I think I know who I want . . . Just trying to make sure of things." Jigsaw spoke up, looking up at Damien and his still-out headwings. "I only get to pick two, right?"

"Exactly. And technically, you should be running it past Not-so-White Noise over there to make sure you're not conflicting with him." Damien spoke up. "Who are you interested in?"

"The Mad Scientist and the Vampire." Jigsaw answered, causing Damien's eyes to go wide and his wings to go wider. "What?"

"It's just . . . I have a hard time seeing how you'll be able to control them. I don't need to remind you how important it is that you be able to rein in your grunts . . . Ace Hardlight can tell you how badly Geisha's messed him up so far." Damien pointed out, before pointing down at Xanatos and adding on, "He looks more your speed. Small, punchable, healthy sense of military structure."

Jigsaw raised an eyebrow. "I don't want him. He thinks I should've let the scout kill Daisy."

"So?"

"He's a stubborn Cazar, that's what's so! I don't need a solider who I can't depend on!" Jigsaw shot back. "Look, Cain went so far as to volunteer to take Slick's place earlier today; control is irrelevant when he actually WANTS me to lead him. Daisy . . . after today's events, I'm pretty sure she owes me enough to keep her tame, at least initially. Besides, she has some serious experience I'd like to tap."

Damien nodded. "But are you honestly willing to risk a lunatic like her scheming under you, or having the vampire feed on you?"

Jigsaw thought on this for a moment, glancing back at the two, before looking back at Damien. "The sign of a good officer is knowing when to listen to her grunts, right? So I'm going to pick a pair that I know have some decent intelligence between the two."

Damien stood up, his hand on his chin, before eventually nodding. "Make sure that White's not planning anything with them."

"Will do." Jigsaw responded, before running over to White Noise, who was walking down the line and having a hard time getting London to even lower his shades. "Silk, I wanted to check with you on-!"

"I already heard you." White Noise shot back, smirking. "I wanted you to take Cain from the start anyway, and as for Daisy . . . good luck with her. For all you see in her, I don't to be anywhere near that time-bomb."

Jigsaw blinked, then narrowed her eyes. "All right, now I know I'm walking into a bad situation . . ."

"No, you're walking into a situation with flaws as well as benefits — I'm not saying it's bad, I'm saying I wouldn't have picked those two, or at least I know they'd work better for you than me." Silk chuckled, walking over to Xanatos. "For example, my technological background means I'll be more interested in the robots than the other players, so it makes sense that I'd pick at least one of them to add to my team."

"Careful with that one." Jigsaw warned as White Noise hovered a hand above one of the Cazar's ears.

Xanatos snorted. "At least he understands what Marcadia was doing . . ."

"And maybe with a little work, you'll understand that the longer we go without getting anyone killed, the longer we all get to live." Silk snarled, grabbing the Cazar about the ears. "Maybe you don't care because you only have to survive here for a season before you get to go home . . . but the rest of us are stuck here until we either leave with a pardon or we leave in a funeral missile. As you can imagine, we'd like to prolong the inevitable.

"Yes, I caused people to die. Yes, Daisy's probably killed a few people herself. Hell, Jigsaw's probably done something pretty bad as well, because I_ still_ can't figure out why a virtuoso violinist would want to associate with us otherwise . . ." White Noise looked back to see Jigsaw's eyes go wide, which he seemed to take as confirmation before continuing, "But it doesn't matter how we all got in. What matters now is how we get out. You can either see that I've got enough brains and enough heart to have already earned my way to the top of the heap so far . . . or you can refuse to use the good senses the Cosmic Force gave you and continue to think that I'm a criminal, who deserves to die regardless of my actions afterward, and you can find yourself getting killed in short order for being a stubborn, self-righteous brat. Your choice."

Xanatos blinked, unable to speak for a moment, before croaking out, "Y-yes, Sir."

White Noise nodded, satisfied with this. "You willing to work with me long enough to survive this season, brat?"

There was more confidence in the Cazar's voice this time. "Yes, Sir."

"Bear with me, boy, I'm an old man. I can't hear you so well."

"Yes, Sir!" Xanatos barked up, hopping out of his chair to stand up.

White Noise straightened himself up, his tail cracking like a whip. "I am here to lead you on a tour of things that will scare you, that will shock you, that may even kill you, and if you are anything by loyal and obedient to me you most likely WILL die! I have no room in my command for conscientious objectors! There is no quarter on this station for you to crawl into and cry like the pussy you are if you cannot deal with the fact that in this company, you are no better than any of these criminals here! I need you to be the soldier I know you want to be! Are you willing to follow me into the pit of hell on my orders, brat?"

Xanatos answered immediately. "Sir, yes, Sir!"

"Louder, pussy!"

"_Sir, Yes, Sir!_" Xanatos shouted, his body straight and tall, before pulling out the rapier mounted by his side, holding it up in true marine fashion.

White Noise smiled, glancing back at Jigsaw. "I love soldiers. Basic Training is such an easy interface to hack." He managed to get a smile out of Jigsaw before turning back to Xanatos. "At ease, soldier."

Xanatos calmed down, and Jigsaw noticed the general tenstion in Xanatos's body to have collasped like a finely-tuned implosion. She glanced back up at White Noise. "I see what you mean about 'working better with others'."

"You've got my blessing for your selections, fiddler." White Noise smirked. "I hope the woman and the vampire work for you."

"Hey, Damien! He says it's okay!" Jigsaw shouted back, running back over to where her two selections were still chained up. "I can keep my selections!"

Damien nodded from a distance, before pulling out a small remote control and punching in what apparently were key codes. By the time she'd ran back to Damien's spot, Qin'Xu and Daisy were already standing up, walking over towards her. She smiled at them, but then blinked as she noticed that Daisy was 'trotting' over to her with a mean glare in her eyes.

Jigsaw blinked, then reached behind her, earning a snarl from the scientist. "If you think I'm going to be scared off by a stupid violin, you damn well better-!"

Daisy skidded to a halt, her metal leg screeching just enough as she noticed Jigsaw drawing out just the bow, holding it out as though it were a sword, with Jigsaw staring down it and right at Daisy's eyes. "Don't even think about it."

"Honestly . . . It's getting to where you can't even bite the hand that feeds anymore." Daisy remarked, standing up straight, before glancing over at Qin'Xu, and offering out her hand to him. "I suppose you're at least a better sport."

Qin blinked, looking down at her, then up at her eyes again. "I don't shake hands."

Daisy rolled her eyes, taking her hand back. "I'm not even going to pretend I understand . . ."

"Both of you, come on." Jigsaw spoke up, gesturing for them to walk with her. "Hopefully Slick's ready by now; I want to introduce you two to your Lieutenant."

"One more thing, Miss Forte." Damien spoke up. "Tommorow, we start fitting everyone for armor. Make sure you've gotten them situated enough that we can start specializing their armor for team missions." He then turned to look towards Daisy. "And in your case, we need to know if you're planning on wearing that metal leg of yours in combat or not. We've got an 'interesting' prototype for you either way . . ."

Daisy nodded, then glanced back down at Jigsaw. "Slick's already gotten his ears healed?"

"Well, they ought to at least be partway done . . ." Jigsaw shrugged. "Hopefully they just reattatched the ears rather than grow whole new ones. He'll look like a Cazar for half the week otherwise."


	37. You Can't Spell Slaughter

_Today I killed, he was just a boy  
Eight before him, I knew them all  
In the fields a dying oath  
I'd kill them all to save my own . . ._

- "Tenth Man Down" by Nightwish

**Chapter 36  
You Can't Spell Slaughter...**

* * *

With a brief guitar chord and a flash of a semi-cheezy "DreadZone" logo done in an angular font, the camera catches sight of what looks to be a metal gargoyle perched atop the corner of a rooftop. Some text at the bottom of the screen appears with, "Novalis - Local time 27:19" as the figure's head moved, revealing a streamlined helmet and almost medival-styled face mask, accompanied with the twitch of a spaded tail. 

Suddenly, the figure darted up, and two large thigh-mounted wheels made out of pure energy bloom into a rigid form, as she wheels herself over to the edge, where we can see a nearby grindrail below her. She careened off the edge, aiming to land on the rail.

Unfortunately, wheels of any kind and grind rails don't mix well, and she slipped, quickly twisting herself to catch the rail with her knees long enough to latch onto it with her hands. She held herself there, tail hanging out and swinging, before hissing with a crackle into her helmet's communicator. "Shit!"

"Daisy! What's going on over there?" Jigsaw's voice popped up. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine . . ." Daisy grunted back, adjusting her legs around the rail, locking her ankles into place so she could traverse the rail from her current position. "Make sure I remember never to hop a grindrail with a wheelchair again."

There was a slight pause in the line. "Why would y-? Never mind . . . just get to the rendezvous point. White Noise has the details for this mission."

"I'll be there shortly." Daisy remarked, pulling herself along the cabling the grindrail was attached to, before dropping down onto another nearby rooftop, landing a little unsteadily.

Daisy blinked, standing up to see an armored figure looking back at her, before the figure's helmet retracted enough for her to see White Noise's face. "Still getting used to the armor?"

"I'll manage." Daisy remarked, before noticing that the Anyr was similarly balanced on two smaller foot-mounted wheels. "Hang on, I thought my armor-?"

"I'll start explaining once London arrives." He remarked, pointing over to where another armor-clad female was signaling off. "Poison's having to redirect him."

"I saw London's starting position . . . how hard could it be to take a damn catwalk?"

The Anyr rolled his eyes. "He missed the catwalk."

"Move it, you worthless piece of . . . there!" Poison hissed, yanking the greenie up onto the rooftop by his helmet. "Here we go!"

"Great, now that we have everyone here . . ." White Noise glanced back at Daisy. "To answer your first question, once everyone spilt up into their teams, the brats in charge assigned out armor. Each team has one suit of each of the four armor types, so certain tasks are easier done by certain people so you're better encouraged to use each other's strengths. Forced teamwork, if you will."

"So what's this stuff called, then?" Daisy blinked, pointing down to the axel-points on her suit.

White Noise grinned at her. "Scout Armor."

Daisy made a face, before looking back at Poison and London, barking at them. "Get over here! We don't have much time!"

"Indeed." White Noise remarked, pointing out towards the fenced-in service lot. "I wanted you four here because quite frankly, I don't trust the communicators for this. We've been 'commissioned' by the local SeHNS chapter to send this place 'a message'."

"What the hells' SeHNS want with a factory?" London blinked, looking out at it. "I thought those hippie douchebags were an animal rights group."

"That's no ordinary factory; it's a slaughterhouse." The Anyr replied, pointing to a few approaching trucks. "Because of the plant's location, they work a little 'backwards'; during the day they render the meat and ship it out, and during the night they bring in fresh fodder; with all the activity in and out of the place, we'll have an easier time getting in. The goal for tonight is to cause as much economic damage to the place as possible. We do that right, we'll close this place permanently, and SeHNS gets a fresh victory for their ranks."

"Nice. Moral High Ground is always fun." Poison smirked. "Got a plan in mind?"

"I've already scanned the blueprints for the place and picked out four good points to hit — their main transformers, the backup generators, the controls for their freezing facilities, and the local server they use for in-house communications." He held up four datacards. "Who thinks they can penetrate the killing floor fast enough to hit the server farm first? Our jobs will be a lot easier once we take that down."

"I'll do it." Daisy spoke up, before adding on, "There's no grindrails on the killing floor, right?"

White Noise chuckled, before handing her the card. "Have fun with it. Make sure to take the rest of Black Hole Sun with you — at least a few of those workers should be armed. It _is_ the killing floor, after all." He gave her a wink and a nod. "Off you go!"

Daisy nodded back, taking a few steps before her thigh-wheels bloomed again, giving her a chance to make a rolling leap off this rooftop, but this time, she leaned forward and activated a secondary pair of ankle-wheels before landing on the new grindrail. She grinned, laughing as she made it towards the bottom, where Jigsaw and the rest of Team Black Hole Sun were waiting nearby, watching as she spun off and stuck a reasonably graceful landing.

"I thought you said you weren't going to try and grind on a wheelchair again!" Jigsaw remarked, her arms crossed awkwardly in her armor, even without the helmet on.

Daisy shrugged. "I figured out a working method. Now come on," She shot back, tossing Jigsaw the datacard. "We have to get moving. White gave us the honor of going first."

Jigsaw frowned at the card, before pulling out a blaster and having her helmet close on herself. "Let's get moving, then. Slick, Cain, come on!"

The two armored figures nodded, moving in sync behind the girls as they crept through the service lot, trying hard to stay out of the bright lights of the vehicles and the watchful eyes of local guardsmen. Jigsaw quickly leapt under the chassis of an idling truck, and the other three quickly followed, shuttling from vehicle to vehicle until they came in close enough.

"Damn . . . What's going on in this place?" Jigsaw muttered, her eyes looking up at the truck's chassis. "This place is electric!"

"News to me." Daisy shrugged, crawling out from under the truck in an unlit spot. "White mentioned this place being a slaughterhouse. Maybe the cattle here are making too much noise for your big ears."

"Easy on the ear jokes." Slick muttered. "I've had enough of those for this week!"

Jigsaw and Cain both pulled themselves out from under the truck at the same time, looking about the loading zones, and spotting a nearby doorway in shadow. Cain sprinted up to it, examining the doorknob before forcing it open, holding it ajar. "Captains first."

"Heh! Even when you're supposed to be all big and bad, you're a-! . . ." Jigsaw started up, then stopped, her eyes going wide as soon as she stepped inside.

"Come on, Captain, what's gotten-? . . ." Slick remarked, running in after her, but also stopping.

"What's wrong with you two?" Daisy grumbled, climbing up and stabilizing herself on the doorframe. "Oh . . . my . . . where's the camera? Someone get this!"

The camera swung around, catching a gruesome sight of the section they labeled the 'killing floor'; flayed, dismembered corpses and flanks flew through the air on meat hooks, fenced-in zones with conveyor belts moved the still-living animals through at a fast clip, even though most of them were too cramped to walk, while between the flying corpses and the fresh meat, a third conveyor system dangled the recently-slaughtered by their feet, hoisting them about and through the air, fresh blood dripping from their neck-wounds and onto the floor, raining down on the machines and the living below.

Even with that mental image burning in, a more shocking detail rang through all of this; each and every one of the 'animals' shuttling through the system had five-fingered hands, tails with large poufs of fur on the end, and ears as large as the rest of their heads.

"Lombaxes . . . why did it have to be Lombaxes . . ." Jigsaw hissed, still unable to move.

"What the hell kind of slaughterhouse is this?" Slick snarled. "Why the hell didn't someone tell us?"

"Fuck this . . ." Jigsaw backed into a shadow-covered corner. "I'm calling in direct. Cypress! Dallas!"

"What's wrong with you? Get in there! We're burning airtime!" Cypress remarked.

"You're the one expecting us to storm a Lombax slaughterhouse . . ." Jigsaw growled. "It's all just fun and gore until it's your own species, is that it?"

"Come on, Jigsaw, you're supposed to be Captain of one of the deadliest forces in the galaxy . . . and besides that, they're not Lombaxes!"

Jigsaw narrowed her eyes as her teammates joined her in the corner — they weren't huddled up like she was, but they looked to be watching her to see if she was going to crack on the first mission. She glanced out at the fence lines before speaking again. "They look a lot like Lombaxes."

"No, no!" Dallas insisted. "They're Kine — you know, cattle! Look at their horns! Look at their fur! That's no pattern I've ever seen on a Lombax! And they don't even talk! They're just stupid animals . . . come on, sure, they might look like you, but Kine have been spliced and separate from Lombax for over two thousand years!"

Jigsaw took a deep breath, standing up and walking over towards one of the fenced-in zones, noting the spotted, splotched black and white fur, and their hollow, plaintive cries. She started trying to calm herself down, chanting to herself. "They're just cattle . . . they're just cattle . . . they're just cattle . . ."

She stepped closer, managing to see one of the 'cattle' looking over at her, and she made eye contact with it; For a moment, nothing was said, and then she retracted her helmet, stepping over to get a closer look, staring at its eyes. There was a flash of realization between the two, and suddenly, Jigsaw stepped away, looking back at her team with a snarl.

Cain was the first one to try and speak up. "Youngblood . . .?"

"_They're not cattle_." She growled, gritting her teeth as her battleaxe materialized in her hands, and she gripped the guitar by the neck. "I don't care what Dallas or anyone else tries to tell me tonight. Those things are Lombaxes, no matter what you call 'em."

"So . . ." Cypress spoke up, still piped in to Jigsaw's communicator. "You ready to actually deal with the rest of this mission or not?"

"What exactly are we doing here, Vox?" Jigsaw snapped, her temper shortened.

"You're just here to plant a few bombs in the place to spook the workers. To be more precise, you have a server in one of the central rooms to blow up so the others can get in undetected."

"Yeah, about that . . ." Jigsaw turned, hefting the axe to rest on her shoulder. "I've got a better idea." She glanced at her team, gesturing with a nod before putting her helmet back on. "I'm in the mood for a slightly stronger message tonight. Who's with me?"

The other three blinked, shocked at the look in Jigsaw's eyes, saying nothing. She glared at them. "I said come on! You're going to let those murderers get away with this?"

She started to storm off, head full of steam and ready to heft her axe, but quickly, Cain was the first one to step forward. "Calm down, Youngblood."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" She growled. "I know how fast that converyor line's moving up there. Every five seconds you pussies waste, another one dies!"

"This is true. But these people . . . they do not understand. They are civilians. You cannot expect to exact judgement on them on screen, at least not without giving them a chance."

Jigsaw kept her eyes on Cain for a moment, before spitting out, "Fine. Come on then, all of you. We still have work to do." With that, she stormed past the curtain of blood dripping down from above, seeking out the destination of the fence lines.

Once they had passed the curtain, though, they couldn't help but show up in the bright lights of the killing floor, trudging through a good inch of blood past workers and processors. Most of them went wide-eyed and stepped aside, while others needed to see blasters toted out before they moved away. One of them grabbed hold of Daisy's shoulder plate. "What's going on here? Who let you in?"

"Sir, stay out of our way." Daisy spat, shaking him off. The worker wasn't taking that for an answer though, and she glared at him again. "Sir, we don't want to hurt you unless we have to. Now back off."

"Now hold on!" The worker growled, taking hold of Daisy by an arm. The reaction was immediate, as Daisy held out her pistol, holding the barrel of the blaster against the worker's forehead. His eyes went wide, but he persisted. "L-look, Lady, I've been working this place for 15 years, and I ain't ever seen a pack like you coming in that wasn't looking for trouble. Now just tell me what you're doing here!"

Daisy sighed, pulling down her visor just enough to glare at him. "We're here to file a complaint about your business, in the clearest form possible. So if you would like not to be part of the 'context' of our message, we suggest you leave this abattoir. NOW."

The man quickly bolted, along with about five of his co-workers. Daisy dropped down to her wheelchair form, leaving a slight wake through the puddles of blood as she sped though to catch up. She wasn't too far behind, at least; the corrals wound around the site a good bit, making it hard to track down the corrals, unless you already knew where they were.

Jigsaw had reached the end of the corral that the fencing lines led to, where a series of workers were busy picking up the struggling Lombaxes, hoisting them up to strap each one into the system. Jigsaw glared at them, quickly grabbing onto her guitar and giving it an experimental twang to get the workers' attention. Three workers turned to glare at her. "Well, look what we've got here, boys; one of 'em's gotten loose!"

"Don't even think about it." Jigsaw growled, holding her axe still. "Put the Kine down, and nobody else gets hurt."

"Aww, look, the little calf thinks she can save her friends . . . No dice, cow." The worker hissed, spitting through its beard. "But hey, as long as you're here . . ."

Jigsaw hefted her axe high, but the three workers charged at her, catching her arms before she could complete the first throw. Slick quickly ran in with a pair of blasters, while Cain leapt into the physical fray, quickly trying to pry her away from the workers. Slick managed off a shot that went into the flank of one of the workers, while Cain managed to pry one man's hands off of Jigsaw's left arm. She swung again, this time getting a glancing blow on the third worker, causing him to groan in pain, but not enough to take his sights off her.

"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy settin' YOU up, girlie!" The worker growled, grabbing hold of one of Jigsaw's ankles. She quickly twisted around enough to go for a second blow, and this time struck the worker in his shoulders, elicting a much stronger response of pain, and an immediate loosening of his grip. She stood up, yanking her axe free enough for the worker's blood to swell out. He looked at it, then back at her, still trying to stumble towards her. "You think you're clever, aren't . . . y- . . ."

Jigsaw leapt back in shock as the man fell forward, his bluish blood now tricking to the floor. Jigsaw looked back at the processing line, which had apparently halted for now, along with the apparent 'gap' between the deployment zone she stood at, and the actual point of slaughter, noting the still-living and writhing Kine who were currently suspended upside down and crying out in confusion. The other two workers fled the scene, the injured one limping past Daisy as they went.

"I think we halted the processing line." Jigsaw managed out, still looking up at the conveyor lines.

Slick walked up, tapping her on the shoulder. "Yeah? Well, I think that guy's dead."

"He just needs nano . . ." Jigsaw spoke, her head still looking upwards. " . . . right?"

"No, he's pretty dead. You're standing in about a liter of him already." Slick spoke up. "Look, it's okay, 'Saw. It was self-defense."

"He's not dead if I don't see him die . . ." She growled, beginning to walk off. "Now come on. They'll be noticing that the line's stopped in short order, and sending more men out here."

"I already scared a good lot of them off." Daisy remarked. "But White Noise was right. We need to disable the communications grid here before we get too much else done."

Jigsaw nodded, still averting her head from actually having to look at her first casualty, keeping her eyes on the nearby shed in the middle of the mayhem. "Let's head on over there, then. I think we've slowed down the line enough to buy that much time . . ."

The walk over to the shed was surprisingly vacant, as Jigsaw began to notice that workers in the nearby sector were indeed starting to flee, a few of them even phoning in for help as they ran. She ignored it, however, walking onwards towards the office shed. Cain kept pace with her, looking down. "Do not mourn the butcher, Youngblood. You did what had to be."

"That's not what's bothering me; well, not all of it at least." She muttered, looking up at Cain.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She winced, wanting to hide away at that moment. "It . . . it smelled of blood back there; not the thinned-out plasma that coats these floors, but actual, fresh blood." She soke up, before whispering to him, "I liked it."

Cain nodded, before appraoching the door, and punching through the glass paneling of the door to open it from the other side. "You will learn, Youngblood. In time."

With a wrenching and a twisting of the knob, the door flew open. Jigsaw walked in, still holding her bloodied axe over her shoulder as she looked inside the office. Her eyes went wide a she noticed a Kendril sitting behind the desk, and her eyes went even wider when she saw there was a child behind the desk with him. The father's eyes went narrow quickly. "Get out. There'll be police here in five minutes, and you'll all be dead anyway once they arrive here."

"That'll be a little late for you if I actually decide to act on that information . . ." Jigsaw remarked, retracting her helment to actually talk to the man. "Tell me, is there an announcement system in this plant?" She waited a moment, then saw the Kendril nod. "Hand me the microphone, please."

She retracted her helmet, holding out a hand, waiting for the Kendril to hand her the microphone; He tossed it over with a trembling hand, more concerned about holding his child tight than anything else. Cain gave the man a reassuring nod, before gesturing to the now open door.

The Kendril and his son bolted out the doorway, and Jigsaw cleared her throat before speaking into the microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen, today's lesson in treating your fellow Kine with kindness will involve the destruction of this facility and its equipment, along with the release of your meaty 'prisoners'. You are all involved in the slaughter of these poor beasts, and equally guilty of the punishment we are about to mete out. If you would like to repent for your crimes, please evacuate the facility now, with your hands behind your head. If there is anything you think will work as a little white flag, feel free to wave one of those as you leave so we can recognise it and won't shoot you by accident. If you still feel that these creatures are made to be eaten, and feel this way strongly enough to not be moved by our previous request, please stay where you are and continue what you are doing; a representative will come along within the next few minutes to execute you in the manner we find the most convienant. Thank you for your cooperation, and have a nice evening."

With that, she turned the system off, and pointed towards a server rack in the nearby corner. "Whoever brought the explosives, rig that rack up."

Cain nodded, kneeling down to rig the system up. Jigsaw grinned, setting up her headset to relay back to Cypress again. "Mission complete; the server rack will be wired to go in-"

"Are you insane?" Cypress hissed. "You were just supposed to plant the damned bomb! Local police will be here soon enough, and you've gone and turned the entire mission into an eco-terror operation!"

"You mean bombing it wasn't already eco-terror?" Jigsaw snapped back. "I couldn't just leave those Kine to die while we were running around playing secret agent . . . besides, this way we'll get most of the civilians out of the line of fire."

This earned another growl from Cypress. "What part of 'local authorities' did you miss?"

"The show's a federally-sponsored program, right?" Jigsaw shrugged. "They won't interfere."

"Er . . . the show is sponsored. This mission ISN'T."

Jigsaw's ears shot straight up for a moment. "What?"

"This isn't government work. We're doing this on a mercenary license!" Cypress snarled once more. "But fine, you wanted to change the mission, you got it. I'll see what we can do about holding the authorities off as long as I can. Once I'm done talking, I'm patching you into White Noise so you two can cooordinate the rest of this mission on the fly. You need to get as many of those cattle out and dismantle as much machinery in the plant as you can until police arrive; we'll have craft waiting to pick you and your new 'buddies' up."

"Thanks, Cy-!"

"I'm not done." Cypress growled. "When we get back to DreadZone Station, it's your head on the line for deviating from the plan. If you expect to get your neck out of the noose on this one, you damn well better make this mission work!"


	38. Many Hands, Short Work

_I know you're half awake  
And no hate and I know how to do it  
Hold the door and let it out  
Don't get it right or wrong  
No, I don't get it . . ._

- "Bleed Together" by Soundgarden

**Chapter 37  
Many Hands, Short Work**

* * *

"Predator! Change of plans!" White Noise barked over the communicators, causing Adari'a to hold one ear. "Ditch the Freezer bomb. We have about 350 Kine that need to get turned around and back out into the service lots so we can get 'em in place for a dust-off!" 

"A what?" Adari'a blinked, looking around to reorient herself. She noticed the still-living Kine hanging upside down on the conveyor line, and they seemed to be reaching out for her.

"We're setting up to get the hell out of here! Just get as many of those cattle freed and away from the building!" White Noise spat back as the camera cut over to White Noise's perch near the railing of the slaughterhouse's power station. He tapped his earpiece again, his line of sight shifting towards the rooftop. "Sovereign! How's the evacuation coming?"

"Most people ran for the doors when they heard Jigsaw's 'announcement'." Ace remarked, combing the rendering division of the plant to look for any stragglers. "We've come across a few people, but one guy just got himself trampled in the first mad dash, and another woman got her wheelchair stuck."

White Noise seemed stunned. "Nobody's putting up a fight?"

"It's a job, not a church. Nobody here's wanting to die just because they think Kine's tasty." Ace rolled his eyes, and the camera caught him walking on a catwalk grid as he took a potshot at a nearby pump. "Sure makes our job easier, though. We've started a few small fires in the area and busted up some of the grinders over here, but the worst we've come across up here is the smell."

"Works for me. Get out of the rendering area and start checking the lower levels. If you get to the bottom levels in time, give Predator a hand with the cattle rustling." Silk spoke, before changing his frequency again. "Black Hole Sun, we've got three minutes. Get out there and start clearing out a space for your new 'brothers' to get picked up!"

Jigsaw snapped at him. "Why aren't you doing it? You're already out there!"

"I'm currently playing 'lookout' as is and trying to get more ships down here, remember?" White Noise remarked, glancing out over at the nearby cliffs and noting the flashes of blue light. "And I take that back, you may not have three minutes."

"Shit . . ."

"Yeah, well the fan is closing in on us. Get moving!" White Noise snarled, cutting the conversation short, leaving Jigsaw and the rest of her team to bolt out of the office shed, noting the gunfire overhead. Jigsaw looked up, watching as the padlocks on the conveyor line were falling free, and with them came their cargo; sometimes agile enough to land right, other times landing hard and flailing ato right themselves.

"It's working . . ." She grinned, looking back to see Charity shooting the locks off from the far side of the plant, while Adari'a was working on matters the hard way and leaping into the corrals to try and reverse the flow of Kine. She noticed Crater working from the outside, rending one of the doorways further open to speed up the exit.

"Yeah? Well I hope your crusade was worth it!" Daisy shot back, wheeling on ahead. "Cain and I'll get to making some space out front."

Jigsaw nodded, watching as the two ran on ahead, while Slick stood his ground and started shooting out padlocks as well. Jigsaw ran on ahead, past the already-rumbling herds of Kine to get outside and oversee her grunts. She saw one of the vehicles moving, then blinked when she realized trucks weren't meant to move in that direction.

"You're kidding me . . ." She blinked, shocked to see Cain with his hands under the front bumper of a truck, pulling it to one side. Daisy was nearby, trying to add traction with her wheels, but kicking up great deals of dirt and dust instead. "Why don't you just try to drive it?"

"These gauntlets aren't made for hot-wiring!" Daisy remarked, holding up a spindle-clawed hand. "And if you think that'll work, you do it."

"I don't even think I can get up there . . ." Jigsaw remarked, before latching onto the bumper and giving it an experimental tug as the others pulled along, and suddenly the truck lurched forward, knocking the three flat. Jigsaw saw the two of them looking back at her, stunned, before they promptly stood right back up and did it again, pulling the truck away from the docks just as more and more of the Kine started to storm out into the service lot, howling and mooing as they went.

Jigsaw glanced out as she saw Adari'a and Charity running out after the Kine, and she smirked. "Well, they're out . . . now, how much time do we have left before the-?"

A thunderous CRASH cut Jigsaw off, and she turned to see Spyro landing feet-first on an abandoned vehicle, with White Noise dropping down onto Spyro as Aeris carried Xanatos down. Daisy turned to look, then remarked to Jigsaw, "I'd say time's a loan shark right now."

Ace ran out of the plant, followed by Geisha, Poison, and Zodiac as the sound of sirens hit the air, and soon Jigsaw found herself hopping up on Cain's shoulders to better see the flash of blue lights. "White Noise! Where are the damned ships?"

"I don't know; something's blocking their clearance." White Noise hissed. "Even our troop ships won't hold enough . . ."

"Great . . . all that work and we're stuck with the local cops." Jigsaw grumbled, steadying herself; Cain took hold of her ankles to stabilize her. "Well, we've got two options; run, or try to explain ourselves."

Adari'a blinked, before looking up at Jigsaw. "I could be wrong, but I think the 'flashing fire' means they're not going to listen very hard."

"The cat's right. We're screwed." Ace snarled. "This is all your fault, rodent!"

"I didn't see you doing much, monkey!" Jigsaw snapped, before trying to turn around. "Now damn it, if that had been a swarm of naked humans hanging off those meat hooks, you'd have acted just the same!"

"That's it!" White Noise peeped up, running to pluck Jigsaw off of Cain's shoulders. "Quick, strip!"

"Wait, what!" Jigsaw yelped, shocked.

"Not like that! You and Slick, strip off your armor and get lost in that herd!" He clarified, pointing to Slick as he approached. Slick nodded, and quickly darted into the herd. "Daisy, Poison, Ace, Adari'a, Cain, up in front and helmets off! Try to look sexy!" With that, White Noise retracted his own helmet back, giving his mane a quick whip so the strands of blue hair turning gold were now flying free in the nighttime wind, just as the squad cars of Novalis's finest arrived at the gates of the service lot, streaming in. "We're going to pull this off yet . . ."

"Attention suspects!" The first squad car boomed out as its driver exited the vehicle. "Do not move! Put your hands in the air and your weapons where we can see them!"

"You heard the man." White Noise remarked, raising both hands high with his blaster hanging upside down from one finger. It took a moment, but soon Ace, Adari'a, Poison, and even Daisy followed his lead, each of them similarly holding their blasters up in idle threat; Cain held his hands up as well, but his were truly unarmed.. Only White Noise dared to speak, turning his head back to the police. "Good evening, men! Is something wrong?"

"I'd damn well hope so." The officer spoke up, as more of them came out of their cars. "We received a flood of calls for at least the last half-hour about you . . . you terrorists . . ."

"Terrorists?" White Noise repeated, almost in disbelief. "Sir, I assure you, this was all in the strictest of self-defense!"

The officer turned a floodlight on the group, causing half the group to wince, and Cain had to shut his eyes completely. The officer spoke again, this time with more of a growl in his voice. "All that armor and weaponry don't say 'self-defense' to me."

"I can explain everything right here and now, Officer . . . er, name please?"

"Gordon." The policeman hissed back. "Chief Gordon."

"Very well, then, 'Chief' Gordon . . ." White Noise smiled, stepping closer and offering his unarmed hand out to the officer, palm up with both thumbs facing out. "My name is Rampart of the High Seas. These are my friends here; we're a local security operation in your star system."

"Uh-huh . . ." Gordon muttered out, accepting White Noise's hand with a suspicious glare.

"Well, we were suiting up to escort one of the local cattle convoys to this fine establishment, when we discovered that a few of the ranch hands mistook two of our close friends for some of their cargo." The Anyr made eye contact with the chief, making sure the statement sank in. "Naturally, my fine lieutenants couldn't bear to see them turned into someone's next pot roast, so we had to come here and make sure that our friends were safe! We would have resorted to less drastic means, but unfortunately that simply wasn't possible . . ."

"Is that so?" Gordon blinked, looking out at the milling herd of Kine who were now just standing there, looking out at the floodlights and keeping up their cacophony. "Look, as much sympathy as I may have for you people if your story's true, I have a hard time believing that there'd be anybody on this planet who could get mistaken for one of those dumb, stupid, brainless, fellati'atin' beasts!"

Both Poison and Daisy flinched on that last remark, but Ace picked up on it without skipping a beat. "Jessie! Sam! If you're in there, shout up! I couldn't find your skins in the processing room!"

Soon after, a loud 'mrowr!' came from somewhere within the herd, catching the chief off guard. He blinked, and sure enough, from the middle of the herd, a hand shot up out from above the heads of the rest of the herd, twinkling her fingers. The chief blinked, and saw her golden fur against the black and white of the Kine, plain as day.

Gordon's jaw dropped, his grip on the flashlight wavering. "What the . . ."

The hand moved forward, and after a minute of struggling through the herd, Jigsaw emerged out of it, looking banged-up in a t-shirt and denim jeans, barefoot, and with her hair in total disarray. Slick looked equally worse for wear, and also barefoot, covered in dust. Both were coughing, half-hunched over, and in need of a good grooming; in short, they looked lucky to be alive.

"There you are!" Daisy spoke up, dashing towards the two Lombaxes, giving them a hug — or as least as well as she could in her armor. Poison followed behind, and the two quickly started doting on them, trying to look as 'authentic' as possible.

White Noise smirked, wrapping an arm around the chief. "Still don't believe me?"

"Well . . . I guess you all did the best you could." Gordon shrugged, scratching his head. "Something about it still doesn't seem right . . ."

"Don't worry, officer; we're almost done here. We'll make sure the mess gets sorted out." White Noise smiled. "We just need you and your friends out of the way so we can get to our own vehicles. My apologies for the inconvenience, of course."

"I suppose . . . good night, then. Make sure those two don't get in any more trouble." Gordon replied, before backing off and stepping back into his squad car. The police slowly but surely left in short order, and once the lights were off them, several of the contestants relaxed, putting their arms back down and letting out a sigh of relief. Daisy collapsed to sit on the gravel, letting go of her captain and lieutenant, while White Noise wiped his forehead.

"That was close." Ace remarked, glancing over at Adari'a. "How are we getting this many Kine out of here, though? I'm pretty sure leaving them behind means they're going to get corralled up again."

Adari'a shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"The ships should be here soon . . ." Jigsaw chuckled, pulling out her battleaxe as she sat down on the gravel, with relief written into her face as she propped it up on a knee. "Cypress, mind telling me right now if I'm still in trouble for 'deviating'?"

"Nope." Cypress chuckled, before adding on, "Congratulations; you're no longer dead meat."

Dallas picked up his cue, launching into his trademark chipper tone. "And with that, folks, it looks like our new contestants have made it through their first team challenges! Will they be so lucky next time? Not if we have anything to say about it! We'll be back to give you more mayhem, more misbehavior and more missions next week, only on DreadZone!"

The camera view quickly started to pull out, with credits beginning to roll as Jigsaw quickly started hammering out a now-familiar guitar riff, the music going on as the show went into darkness.

_-zloop!-_

The group on the couch sat in silence for a moment as the entertainment stopped, almost looking at each other for guidance on how to react to that; instantly afterwards, however, the couch erupted into a loud cheer as nearly everyone on it leapt up in loud appreciation.

"Damn!" Ratchet spoke up, looking over at Jigsaw. "Okay, general opinions on DreadZone aside, that last episode was amazing!"

"We told you DreadZone was a different beast back then . . ." Jigsaw chuckled, smiling.

Adari'a laughed, draping a foreleg over Jigsaw's lap. "And so were we!"

"That entire episode couldn't have gone better if we'd planned it that way." Cypress smirked, smiling down at everyone else.

In the midst of all this, though, Clank jumped over to the coffee table, standing up. "One thing bothers me, though . . . For all of the effort that Gleeman went into while we were at DreadZone, how did an important a detail as 'what species the slaughterhouse was for' slip by in that episode?"

"Well . . ." Cypress winced. "I wasn't the one who organized that mission, so it's possible that Damien or Nate knew and just chose not to mention that detail. Still . . . even if I'd known, it wouldn't have changed how the show went. We got a hell of a response out of that episode when it first aired."

"Either way, I'd say that's the perfect spot to leave off on, because by tomorrow morning we'll be back on Veldin, and we'll finally be able to get back to the business at hand; and by that, I mean figuring out what the hell is with our good friend's invention." Jigsaw smiled. "And we'll be just in time, too."

Al blinked, sitting up. "For what?"

"Liberty Day. You're going to love Elysium tomorrow, rest assured on that." She replied, before stretching her arms. "With any luck, the Vox Fleet isn't going to try anything stupid . . . but we'll deal with that as it happens. Until then, I'm heading for the bridge."

"Hang on, let me help you with that!" Ratchet spoke up, vaulting over the back of the couch to beat Jigsaw to the door, which earned a snide chuckle from a couple of the others. He turned, glaring at them, before sticking his tongue out, and following through the doorway right after her.

Adari'a rolled her eyes. "Heading to the bridge, maybe. Working there, no."

"Lay off it. Jigsaw getting attention from him means less _tsuris_ for the rest of us." Cypress shrugged. "Besides, I'm reasonably sure she'll be in for a rude awakening soon — She may have forgotten in the midst of all the other things, but the premiere of Cirque du Mortis is coming up. And I'm certain that they're doing something with Veldin for it." She sighed. "I just wish I knew what."


	39. Homecoming

_Your mother was the lightning —  
I can't believe it's true.  
Your mother was the ocean,  
And you're a sky of blue . . ._

- "Your Mother was the Lightning" by Court & Spark

**Chapter 38  
Homecoming**

* * *

  
The camera flickered on, showing a familiar robot standing on Veldin soil. "I'm Darla Gratch for Channel 64 News. We have just received word that Protectorate Jigsaw Forte, one third of the Veldin Triumvirate, is due to arrive at any moment. Over the past 48 hours, new information has just been leaked that, to say the least, could have an impact on the remainder of her term. I'm currently here with Juanita Ksetko, former Vox News anchor."

"Thank you, Miss Gratch, though I don't think I'll be 'former' for much longer." Juanita spoke with a vocally-inflected smirk.

"That's a matter for later. On issues of more importance to our viewers," Darla went on, "While we're waiting for Protectorate Forte's courier ship to land, perhaps you could discuss the recent scandal surrounding Veldin's 'leading lady'. It's certainly newsworthy."

Juanita glared. "Before I say anything further, I want to go on the record saying I don't believe a single word of it."

"Yes, but Vox News has been the first source to receive this information. I would much rather a Vox spokesperson come forth about it." Darla responded, prodding Juanita to speak.

"Very well." Juanita remarked, before straightening her stance. "At approximately 10:43 AM VMT two days ago, We received word that a Veldin State Fleet had attacked a commercial convoy."

Darla paused her. "Wasn't it a Vox Enterprises Convoy, to be more specific?"

"The point was that it was a commercial, civilian, and most importantly, _unarmed_ convoy that was attacked." Juanita snapped. "That it was the Veldin Fleet is unmistakable; we have video evidence that Ratchet himself was involved in the unprovoked assault!"

"But statements claim that Miss Forte was behind the assault."

"Who else would be able to organize a state fleet to attack u-. To attack that convoy?" Juanita caught herself. "Miss Courtney Gears was aboard one of those ships. Hardly the hallmark of suspicion, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm no political analyst, Juanita, but it's safe to say that the Protectorate has some explaining to do. The odds that she'll be willing to speak today, however, are-. There she is!"

The _Gangrel _alighted down near Elysium, where a large street carnival could be seen extending out into the oasis roads. The palpable electricity of the two dozen or so reporters that now surrounded her was nothing short of electric, though.

Gangrel's mouth quickly gave way to show Ratchet, Clank, Al, Dimitri, Cypress, Adari'a, and Jigsaw, all standing together at the top of the causeway. The only sign that anything was even wrong was that Jigsaw, for whatever reason, looked catatonic as she laid eyes on the reporters.

"Protectorate!" One reporter spoke up. "Did you in fact order a state fleet to attack Vox ships?"

"Can you give us any explanation to your interference on Quartu earlier this month?"

"The _Galactic Groper_ is reporting that you're now working with porn starlet Paris Ventura, can you verify?"

Dimitri took hold of her by the arm and she calmed down, even though she was still oddly quiet. Ratchet held his hands up, as though trying to do crowd control. "Look, we'll answer all your questions in due time, but right now Miss Forte has some time-sensitive business to-!"

"Ratchet! Is it true that since your imprisonment on DreadZone, you've turned into a 68-pound weakling?"

Ratchet glared at the woman, and turned like he was about to deck her, but suddenly a wave of calm overtook him, as though Jigsaw was trying to tell him to stop. He lowered his arms down, glaring at the reporter. "This interview is over. Now, if you'll excuse us . . ."

"Who's the cripple? Is he a new advisor?" "Are you and Jigsaw an 'item' now?" "Ratchet, can you at least tell us why you've refused . . ."

The press yammered on as Ratchet pulled Jigsaw away, the group following after him as they pushed her on to the safety of Elysium. Deputy Aria greeted them once they were inside. "Madam Jigsaw! Thank God you're-!"

"You're fired." Jigsaw snapped, and Aria's eyes went wide as Jigsaw walked off without further explanation.

Aria's eyes remained wide as the rest of the group walked past, and only Clank seemed willing to stay behind for the few extra minutes needed to explain, "Don't worry; you've actually had this in coming for almost two weeks now."

"Why you little-!" Aria snarled, and Clank ran to catch up to the others.

By the time he'd found where they'd absconded off to, Adari'a and Cypress were busy over in one mirrored corner while Big Al was apparently 'shielding' Jigsaw from their eyes.

Ratchet was rolling his eyes. "Al, just sit down. It's not like I can see through Cypress to get a peek at her anyway."

"Hey, if she doesn't want you to see her in various states of undress, then so be it!" Al shot back.

"Even if she was wearing lacy blue underwear with a see-through mesh slip?" Ratchet quipped, flashing Al a devious smile.

"Even if she was . . . a mesh slip, you say?"

Ratchet nodded. "Black filet crochet. Hides almost nothing."

Al looked like he was about to short-circuit imagining that. "I . . . wow . . .

"Will you two be quiet? We're almost done!" Cypress hissed, before backing off.

Jigsaw shook her head clear, looking down at herself and the hanbok she now wore — it looked ridiculously formal on her, but state dress was state dress. The array of blues, yellows, and deep crimson played along the fabric, and Dimitri needed a moment to clear his own head upon sight of her.

Ratchet whistled. "Now, see, you could never monkey me into an outfit like that."

Cypress smirked. "We can damn well try."

Jigsaw quickly picked up her composure, now that she was away from the questioning mob, and turned to give Ratchet a small smile. "Apparently we've got a little work to do . . . thankfully, though, I seem to be at the center of it. I suggest you let me do my political work, while you all go on and enjoy yourselves. Maybe a little public exposure on your part will help."

"One can only hope so." Ratchet smirked, glancing down at Clank. "Come on, pal, let's enjoy some carnival."

"Ratchet, I'm afraid there are a few details we need to consider." Clank spoke up, glancing over at him. "One, I would like to bring Dimitri with us."

Ratchet glanced back at the deaf Lombax, then smirked and looked back at Clank. "That's easy enough."

Clank didn't miss a beat, though Ratchet's heart certainly did once he spoke. "Also, Ratchet, your parents messaged me just prior to landing. They're here to see you."

The next thing anyone knew, Ratchet had bolted out the door with Dimitri's arm in one hand and Clank's in the other, dragging them out of the room.

_One panic attack later..._

"Dimitri wants to know why you're so stressed out about this." Clank spoke up, now latched onto Ratchet's back. "He says it's not like you."

"Clank, even you haven't met my mom!" Ratchet shot back, walking at a hard trot that Dimitri was having trouble matching.

"Your father seemed like such an upstanding person, though — he reminded me a lot of you. Why wouldn't your mom be similar?"

Ratchet shook his head. "You _really_ haven't met my mom."

"But logically, she couldn't be too far from-"

"Ratchik?"

Ratchet froze, giving Dimitri a chance to catch up. Ratchet took a step forward, faltering just a bit as he turned to the source of the new voice. "Eema?"

"Ratchik!" The voice cried up again, and Ratchet bolted for it. Dimitri saw him running for the older couple – The older male had golden fur against almost black stripes, while the woman . . . well, if he could see past all that blonde hair she had, he'd be able to tell better. She looked almost as pale as a ghost, with greyed fur against tan stripes.

Ratchet's arms went around both of them, though. "Eema! Abba!"

The two latched on tightly to Ratchet for a moment, and Clank jumped off Ratchet's back to see the three of them hugging, staying quiet. Not knowing any better, Clank took a step back as Dimitri came in a little closer. ((Who they?))

Clank responded quickly. ((Ratchet's parents.))

Dimitri turned his head a little, as though trying to get a better look, before adding on, ((He adopted?))

((I doubt it.)) Clank replied, just as Ratchet let go enough so he could stand back up. Clank spoke up again. "Ratchet . . . are you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, yeah, sure . . . Mom, Dad, this is Clank and Dimitri. Dad, you've already met Clank before." Ratchet spoke, pointing to each of them in turn. "Clank, make sure Dimitri gets this . . . Dimitri, this is Clockwork Wrench, my father," He said, pointing to each of his parents in turn, "And this is Lovelace Radian, my mother."

"Pleased to-" Lovelace spoke first, before pausing and noticing Dimitri paying more attention to Clank than her. She frowned, as though there was already a spark of jealousy between her and the robot. "How rude!"

"Mom, don't." Ratchet spoke first. "Dimitri's deaf. Clank's just translating."

"What, they don't have nanotech for that yet?" Lovelace scoffed; if her eyes were visible through her bangs, she likely would have been rolling them. "If I can put up with being a pincushion to get my ears fixed, he damn well can too!"

"It does seem a little strange . . ." Clockwork spoke up.

"Not really." Ratchet shrugged. "Nanotech just fixes things back to your genetic code. Dimitri was born deaf, so nanotech doesn't solve it."

Lovelace frowned. "That's no excuse."

"_Eema . . ." R_atchet spoke, almost pleading. "Look, Dimitri's a good friend of mine, don't-"

"What, is he your lover now?" She snapped, her head turning just fast enough for her bangs to move out of the way, revealing the glare of brown eyes. "Really, Ratchet, if you're-"

"He's not!" Ratchet snarled. "I just . . . forget it." he sighed, picking Clank up. "I should've known something like this was going to happen. Come on, guys."

"Wait, Ratchet!" Clockwork dashed after them, grabbing Ratchet on the shoulder.

Ratchet turned around, almost furious. "Damn it, Dad . . ."

"You've got to take it easy on your mother, Ratchet." Clockwork spoke up. "You only see us so little now, and your mother even less."

"Like it's my fault she keeps bouncing in and out of clinics!" Ratchet hissed in a low whisper.

Clockwork glared at him. "Well you could at least be a little more considerate. Now look, I know she's being a bit . . . unfair to your friend. But she's still your mother."

"Damn it, I was trying to have a good day today . . ." Ratchet snarled. "You expect me to put up with her being such a bigoted ass to Dimitri the whole time? She's one to talk anyway; I thought you said she was deaf for over six months!"

"And if you had any clue what she put up with then, you'd know why she finds your 'friend' so odd." Clockwork narrowed his own eyes. "Being deafened and being deaf are two different things. But please, respect your mother."

"Fine . . ." Ratchet sighed. "So, what're you two here for? Just to see me?"

"What, we can't miss our son?" He smiled, giving Ratchet a pat on the back. "We're here to enjoy Liberty Day with you. If your friend wants to join us, he's more than welcome by me."

"Well . . . Dimitri? You up for it?" Ratchet spoke up. Clank quickly relayed the question, and Dimitri nodded, smiling a little. "All right, then . . . let's get to it!"

Clockwork laughed a little, offering his hand out to shake Ratchet's hand, then Dimitri's. "That's my boy!" The four of them headed back for Lovelace, who was still standing there with crossed arms, before the elder Wrench spoke up. "Lovey, Ratchet's friends are going to be joining us for today . . . they shouldn't be too much trouble."

Lovelace scoffed lightly. "That's what you think."

The pack walked in relative silence, as Dimitri noted that Ratchet's mother was being exceedingly colder to him than anyone else; she kept her sleeves cinched tight around her wrists, fiddling with the buttons as though the sleeves weren't enough; he saw her tail twitch in anxiety, even though most of her tail was also sleeved and hidden by her long dress. She was, above all else, highly nervous right now... and it disturbed him that he couldn't see her eyes. He needed her eyes.

At least the rest of the street carnival was colorful and alive; Ratchet couldn't help but smirk at all the little kittens running by in their best hanboks and baji, filling the streets with blue, yellow, and crimson, dashing through the streets with their windsocks of snakelike dragons and whatever other little toys and streamers they had. The sidewalks around them were filled with various vendors and merchants, though every now and then at the intersections, there were more interesting folk — the game carnies, the kiddie rides, the random gimmicks and artisans.

"So, Dimitri . . ." Clockwork spoke up, glancing over at the deaf Lombax. "Where'd you grow up? I wasn't even aware they had schools for the deaf on Veldin . . .

Dimitri blinked, then looked to Clank to act as an intermediary. After a few moments of signage, Clank spoke up. "Dimitri was raised in the 'Silent Night' community on planet Nevirel. The community is well-known as a haven for the Deaf."

"You speak for him now?" Clockwork asked.

Clank nodded. "I am able to translate for him, yes."

"Why don't you ask him why he won't get himself fixed, then." Lovelace snapped in a curt tone, looking like she should have been glaring at the robot.

Rather than asking this time, however, Clank spoke for himself. "In all respect, Mistress Radian, we have only known Dimitri for a little less than a month. We have not had the time nor the opportunity to offer him a chance at 'repair', and furthermore I am not even certain he would want it."

"Why not, is he an infant as well as deaf?" She spat.

Clank narrowed his eyes. "Dimitri is a highly intelligent Lombax. I was merely speculating on-!"

"I find it hard to believe that anyone, least of all a Lombax, would choose not to hear." She turned to see Dimitri again, and this time he caught sight of her eyes as they pierced though his own. "Why anyone willingly bear a child with that weakness is beyond me."

The reaction from Ratchet's father was swift. "Lovelace!"

"Eema!" Ratchet spoke up in shock.

Her ears swept down in annoyance. "What? _What?_"

"That's it!" Ratchet growled. "Come on, Dimitri. Right now, I've heard more than enough for the both of us."

With that, Ratchet stormed off, Dimitri following right after him.

"You really shouldn't have insisted that his parents abort him . . ." Clockwork remarked, watching them go."

"And why not?" She hissed a little. "You think I was happy having my judgment with Ratchet questioned too?"

Clockwork shook his head. "Those were your own flaws in question, not his."

A good block away by now, Ratchet was quickly trying to lose himself in the crowd, coughing up a few bolts to play one of the ring-tossing games.

Clank sat up on the bar of the booth. "Ratchet, are you-?"

"No." He snarled, throwing the first ring across the series of pegs.

Dimitri leaned up against the side of the booth as well, offering the vendor a few bolts to play as well. Clank continued to speak to Ratchet, however. "I couldn't tell too much about your mother from that . . . obviously Dimitri disturbed her, but-"

"Look, if Dimitri hadn't set her off, she'd probably have nagged me about being too skinny after DreadZone, or that I was still risking my neck traipsing across the galaxy, or . . . I don't even know what, she'd find something about me that she'd try to fix for me." Ratchet remarked, tossing another ring and missing. "It was fine when I was a kid, but damn it . . ."

"She can't have done too bad. You're one of the top heroes in the galaxy now."

"One of the few heroes left, thanks to DreadZone." Ratchet corrected him, tossing another ring. Dimitri tossed his own, and managed to land his on a peg. "I'm almost surprised that Gleeman didn't try to grab her as well and use her against me or something."

Clank looked confused, pausing for a moment before he spoke up next. "Why would he have done that?"

"Well, ya see-."

Dimitri then tossed the remaining two rings, landing them both on pegs. The vendor's eyes went wide, then turned to Ratchet. "Hey, you're with Silent Sam here; what's he want for his prize?"

"Huh?" Ratchet turned to the vendor, momentarily lost in the conversation. "Er . . ."

Dimitri pointed to something near the roof of the booth, and soon the vendor had tossed him a small beanbag toy. "All yours, kid."

"Hey . . . it looks a little like Gangrel, huh?" Ratchet remarked, noting the doll's features.

Dimitri smirked, then stuffed the doll inside a pocket of his labcoat, before making a quick gesture at Ratchet. It took a moment for Ratchet to realize he was pantomiming flushing a toilet. "OH . . . Hey, Clank, can you-?"

"Certainly." Clank spoke up, leading Dimitri around to a nearby set of facilities. Ratchet stayed behind, finishing up his own ring toss, while Dimitri ran for the bathroom.

Clank waited outside the doorway, sitting idly for a moment. The idleness was quickly interrupted with an incoming message, though.

A visual popped up, and Gangrel started to speak. "Hey, Clank, what's the situation over there? Jigsaw said Ratchet seemed stressed out . . ."

"There seems to be some 'family matters' involved." Clank spoke up. "Several disparaging remarks were said about Dimitri, and, well . . ."

"So things have gone from bad to worse, I'm guessing."

"Exactly."

Gangrel nodded. "Who's with you now?"

"Just Ratchet and Dimitri."

"Excellent. Get the two of them to head back to the Garden Field; Jigsaw says there's something there that's sure to cheer Ratchet up." Gangrel smiled, before signing off. Clank stood up, trotting across the way to where Ratchet was finishing up, holding what looked to be a small stuffed animal on a keychain. Clank tugged on Ratchet's pants. "Ratchet, once Dimitri returns, we should head towards the Gardens."

"What's going on?"

"I simply thought it would be a good idea."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "Come on, now . . ."

"I heard something interesting was going on down there." Clank remarked, before heading back for the restroom to find Dimitri. Once they'd caught up with him, Ratchet and Dimitri started heading for the Gardens, heading for the wide pitch (that was now being used as a park space). Ratchet stopped at the edge, glancing around.

Ratchet blinked; he scanned the pitch, then scanned it again, looking for anything that might qualify as 'interesting', but found nothing in particular.

He glanced down at Clank. "Are you sure there's anything worth our-?"

A moment later, he heard the sound of a rocket going off, and Ratchet's head whipped around wildly to try and pinpoint the source of the disturbance, but soon found something flying right behind his ears.

"What the-!" Ratchet cried out, looking up at the flying Lombax alighting in front of him.

The dark green armor gleamed as a helmet gave way to a green face mask, smirking as his tawny ears flicked with the wink he gave Ratchet. "Hey there, hero . . . recognize me any?"

"I've never seen you in my life!" Ratchet growled. "Who do you think you are, hotshot?"

"Ah, yeah . . . that whole 'lying low' thing doesn't really help when it comes to striking fear . . ." The stranger remarked, walking in a little closer. "Tell me, funny boy, you ever heard of 'The Viridian Groom'? Hacker, wiretapper, the evil that lurks in the hearts of Lombaxes . . ."

"Back off, Groomy." Ratchet put out an arm, pushing him back. "I'll give you credit for having the shiny metal outfit, but if you're trying to impress me as being a 'villain', you've got to try harder."

The Groom blinked, his head jerking back. "Harder? Harder! I'll have you know I've been committing heinous acts since before you descended from your mother's fallopian tubes!"

"Pfft. My mother probably kicked your ass from here to Kyzil back then, too." Ratchet remarked, quickly growing annoyed.

"Damned if I know, kid. Back then I was so wrapped up working on the Year of Fear, I probably never-"

Ratchet blinked, eyes wide. "Wait, what?"

The Groom glanced over at him. "Year of Fear. Biggest coordinated assault on the Solana Scouts in galactic history. I realize it was before your time and so you can't fully appreciate the beauty of it, but hey, that's your loss, isn't it?"

Ratchet blinked and then snarled, his fists tightening up in anger. "You . . . "

"Yeah? What is it, kid, you're gonna try and tell me I ought to do the whole entr-"

_WHAK!_

Ratchet's wrench sank in hard and true, knocking the Groom back five yards. The Groom looked up in shock, quickly getting back to his feet as he saw Ratchet coming for him again. Ratchet's Wrench swung once more, hitting its target with a sickening smack, sending the Groom skidding across the stones another time, tumbling into a sitting position.

The villain growled, trying to clear his head. "I've lost my touch . . ." The Groom hissed, pulling out what looked to be a handheld crossbow. "Bring it on, wrench-monkey! Now we're getting somewhere!"


	40. The Crimson Hands of Veldin

_I can't believe that you would think that shit of me  
I was amazed at the torment that you put me through  
If you can see right through the greed and all your needs  
You realize that you were just about as bad as me . . ._

- "The Way You Like It" by Adema

**Chapter 39  
The Crimson Hands of Veldin**

* * *

  
"Miss Forte!" The messenger shouted at the top of his lungs, barging into a state room that looked like it was in the midst of either a photo-op ceremony or an important meeting.

Either way, Jigsaw wanted to growl at the interruption. She turned to the messenger, picking up the skirt of her hanbok as she went. "What is it?"

"It's the Viridian Groom! He's . . . he's fighting Ratchet on the pitch as we speak! We're already trying to evacuate the area, but-."

"Has a squad already been deployed?" She asked, two parts curious and one part smirking. Once she saw the messenger nod, she added on. "Good. Make sure they keep any onlookers away, and deploy a second squad to make sure of it. I'll be down there momentarily."

The messenger nodded again, running off in panic, while Jigsaw looked back at the cameras. "If you'll excuse me, I think our press conference has been interrupted by something a bit more exciting."

The reporters quickly scrambled for the door while Jigsaw headed for an alternate exit, which was where Cypress, Al, and Adari'a had parked themselves. Adari'a's eyes were a little wide. "This wouldn't have anything to do with-"

"Shh." Jigsaw smirked. "What's the fun in that?"

A few moments later, though, Jigsaw was running out of the room with the three hangers-on right behind her, anxious to see the action for themselves.

Back on the field, Ratchet was having to use his wrench to block and dodge several of the Viridian Groom's bolts from his crossbow. The brawl had denigrated into a good old fashioned faceoff, and even though Ratchet had to understand just how dangerous it was, he couldn't help but smile.

He really did need to beat the crap out of something, after all.

"Get back here, you double-teaming psychopath!" Ratchet growled, tailing the Groom.

Viridan laughed as he fired off another set of bolts, even as he tumbled across the ground. "Hey, is it my fault if it was just more fun that way?"

"I'll show YOU fun!" Ratchet growled, but then yelped as one of the bolts grazed an arm — he'd forgotten in all the rush that he was fighting the guy unarmored, and with just a wrench to boot . . . but no matter. He'd taken on Drek like this, and he could damn well do it again!

Ratchet flung his wrench as hard as he could, smacking the Groom right in his helmet and knocking the Groom to the ground once more. Ratchet caught the boomeranging tool back in his hand, waiting for the Groom to get back up . . . but this time he just lied there. Smiling, Ratchet started twirling his wrench as he walked closer to the Groom, anxious to see if he was beaten or just playing possum.

The Groom coughed, checking his face mask to make sure it hadn't slipped loose. He blinked, then turned his head to look behind him and see Ratchet standing there. "Don't kid yourself, hero . . ." he coughed. "You're not the kind of Lombax that'd hit a man while he's down, are you?"

Ratchet took a few steps closer towards his back, tapping on the Groom's hips with his wrench. "That depends. Were you?"

The groom halfway glared at him. "The hell you talking about, kid?"

Ratchet looked up to see Dimitri and Clank looking on with rapt attention, before he refocused his eyes on the Viridian Groom. "You know what you did during at least the Year of Fear, so I already know the damn answer. Now either you can admit what you did to Eema, or I can finish you right here."

"Eema? Who the hell would-. You've got to be kidding me . . ." The Groom remarked, looking up. "You're not telling me you're-? No way . . . I'm old, but I'm not that old . . ."

"What are those two talking about?" Clank remarked from his seat, confused.

Ratchet smirked. "Took you long enough."

Viridian gave Ratchet a knowing smile. "Well, then, son of Veldin . . . lean in a little closer. I've got something for you that I don't think you want the others hearing."

Ratchet seemed hesitant at first, but then leaned in closer, and stood there for another moment before he leaned in closer still, and the Groom grabbed him by his harness, picking up his crossbow once more. Ratchet had his wrench ready, and soon the Groom found his shooting arm checked by the wrench.

The Groom gave Ratchet a derisive snort. "Good. You're at least smarter than your mother, I'll give you that."

Ratchet stepped on the Groom's wrist, giving him the leverage he needed to free his wrench up to swing it high. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't finish you right here and now."

"You mean besides the throng of little kids watching?"

"Huh?" Ratchet blinked, looking up to see that the two had been fighting among a series of towels and picnic baskets; indeed, the border around this fight was made up of little children and their onlooking families more than anything else, and they were all watching on, looking at him, some fearful and some thirsty for blood . . . and in that moment, Ratchet hesitated.

The sight of a kama being thrown into the tableau didn't help the situation either.

Ratchet looked behind him to see a figure launching herself over the barrier of the crowd, leaping into the scene a few feet behind Ratchet, wielding the kama's twin in her left hand. Her braids and dreadlocks blew in the breeze, interrupting the swathes of blue and crimson in her long-skirted uniform, before she darted forward to try and attack the Groom herself.

Ratchet held the wrench up in her way and stopped her short. "The hell are YOU doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She spoke, arms crossed. "Now get out of the way. This is my fight."

"I've already done most of it, now just-!"

With the brief sensation of something slipping out right between his feet, the Groom had squirmed loose, and was making a hasty retreat through the crowd and away from the two. Ratchet blinked, then looked back at the interloper, who now snarled at him. "Look what you just did! He got away!"

Ratchet growled. "He got away because you threw me off!"

"Come on, I thought you said you were a big hero now . . ."

Jigsaw blinked as she arrived on the scene, cutting through the crowd to stand at at the edge of the crowd near Dimitri and Clank. "What's-? Wow . . . that's Scout Veldin, isn't it?"

Clank glanced up. "You know her?"

"Well, no, but I know of her — she's hidden herself away for almost two decades now. It must've been something really big to bring her out like-."

"Damn it! Just leave me the hell alone!"

Ratchet slammed his wrench against the ground out of anger before storming off, and at that moment Jigsaw found herself (and most of the crowd) having to retrace a few steps.

"What the hell's wrong with him?" She managed out, an incredulous look on her face.

Cypress just shook her head. "Goddess . . ."

Ratchet stormed back over to Clank, Dimitri, and the quickly-assembled gang, with a look on his face that indicated he'd rather eat glass right now. Jigsaw make sure that the crowd gave them a wide berth, even as they left Scout Veldin by herself in the middle of the crowd.

Once they had managed to evade most of the crowd, Jigsaw's reaction was fierce. "What the heck's wrong with you? Okay, she chose one of the worse moments to interfere, but I wouldn't blame her over letting the Groom get away . . ."

"What do you care? I thought you hated anyone even involved in that Year of Fear crap!" Ratchet shot back at her.

Jigsaw shrugged, with a look like she didn't quite want to let on. "I've learned to deal with it. You, on the other hand . . ."

"Can we just not talk about this?" Ratchet snapped, before poking Jigsaw in the nose and adding on, "And keep any mind-reading you do about it to your own damn self!"

"All right, all right! You don't have to be so pink-eye paranoid about it . . ." Jigsaw muttered. "Besides, my own knowledge about Scout Veldin is plenty disturbing without you adding into it."

"Just shut up already." Ratchet growled, shaking his head. "There's a damn festival going on here and I'd like to enjoy some of it, all right?"

"Okay, we'll be quiet about it." Jigsaw remarked, giving Ratchet a quick shoulder hug, before she glanced back up at Cypress. _Besides, it's not like I still can't talk about it with the rest of you._

_That's just cruel._ Cypress gave Jigsaw a knowing look. _But it does circumvent his involvement nicely, I'll give you that._

Ratchet, oblivious to the general gossip behind his back, quickly headed for one of the nearby vendors, and the gang followed behind in suit.

_Later that night . . ._

"Places people! We've got to make this look good!" Maggie crowed, walking around (albeit unsteadily) with a metal leg brace on her left leg as underling Hobbits ran about their business. "I want the lighting to scream 'Liberty and Justice for All' at the top of their lungs!"

"Do we really have to do this?" Dexter glanced down at her from his perch atop an equipment crate. "Isn't it enough that we're here for the season premier tomorrow night?"

Maggie chuckled, lowering her clipboard for a moment. "What Miss Avon wants, Miss Avon gets, and right now she wants to make sure that we do a big enough 'goodwill' gesture to have a packed audience tomorrow. And besides that, Jack says he wants to run a little test here tonight as well."

Maggie walked down a few yards before knocking on a star-marked door. "Isn't that right, Miss Gears?"

"I'm not ready for my closeup yet!" Courtney growled from within, not opening the door.

"Heh, from what I've heard from Penny and Rose, that robot's going to make everyone's pants- woah!" Dexter crowed, before reaching for his own pants. "It's on Vibrate . . ."

Maggie rolled her eyes, then covered them. "I don't want to know . . ."

"Hey, there, Miss- huh?" Dexter blinked, eyes going wide for a moment. "Are you sure? Now?" He glanced over at Maggie, who had a worried look on her face. "All right, yeah, I'll get the others mobilized. Sure thing. Later, Boss Lady!"

With that, Dexter hung his phone up, prompting Maggie to do a double take. "What was that all about?"

Dexter chuckled. "Miss Gears can take care of her self. We've got a golden opportunity ahead of us right now, and we can't afford to blow it."

"Look, we're already pretty sure Ratchet's on the planet. If she's asking us to try and kill him again-"

"Not in the least!" Dexter smiled. "According to Miss Avon's sources, Jigsaw's already arrived in the 'Executive Suite' of the concert zone. She's not only with Ratchet, but because the 'Suite' is only built up on temporary supports, there's a certain weight limit . . ."

Maggie's eyes went wide. "Cypress and the Princess aren't going to be anywhere near them, or at least nowhere near enough to interfere . . ."

Dexter's eyes began to glisten. "Which means that all we really need to pull this off, is little old me . . . but bringing some backup won't hurt, and I know you won't argue . . ."

"Are you kidding?" Maggie smiled, stomping her left leg. "Let's get moving!"

As the crowds began to gather around the concert stage, Maggie glanced up at the crowd as she pulled out her communicator. When she looked up, she noticed Jigsaw sitting idly atop the raised booth, and blinked at who else she saw up there as well. "I don't believe it... she's actually here. With him. And they're leaving those two wide open!"

"Sure, if 'wide open' can even apply to two ex-DreadZoners like them." Dexter winced, pulling out his communicator again. "Hey, Powder-Puff Pals; get down here! We got a situation!"

"We're down by the concessionaries near the concert field. What's going on?"

"Targets One and Two are up in the tower near the concert field. Here's the plan . . ."

Maggie veered off from Dexter, positioning herself on a nearby rooftop, with Jigsaw and Ratchet in her sights, neither one of them looking anywhere near her. She started walking across the roof, quickly flipping through her arsenal for the right equipment. This had to be quick, and if they expected to get them both, they'd have to make sure not to hurt any bystanders that could attract extra attention.

Her eyes darted over to Cypress and the centaur over near what looked to be a souvenir booth, which was just far enough away to be out of most creatures' hearing ranges. The time was closing in.

She pulled out a pair of smoke charges, powering them up. They weren't getting any more separated at this point . . .

"AND NOW, SINGING OUR GLOBAL ANTHEM-!"

"Oooow!" Maggie winced, holding her ears. Of all the places she had to perch herself, she just _had _to pick the one near the speaker system!

She backed away from the speakers before they powered up again, "THE CRIMSON HANDS OF VELDIN, BY POP ROBOT SENSATION COURTNEY GEARS!"

"Maggie!" Dexter spoke up, even though it was barely a whisper to her right now. "It's time! Come on!"

Maggie focused on the stage long enough to see Courtney slink out in a two-piece flag outfit, with the 'crimson hands' centered right over her metallic breasts, before turning to focus on her target. She quickly threw the charges, before leaping right into the fray.

"What the-!" "What's going on?"

"Surrender and nobody gets hurt . . . much!" Maggie smirked as her siblings moved in.

Cypress's eyes were wide, even as she lashed out and just barely missed Maggie. Adari'a had backed up right behind her, clawing out at the Ravers but only coming up with fur through her fingers.

Dexter leapt in, hoping to get a lucky swipe. He tumbled over Cypress's shoulder, but soon latched onto Adari'a's mane, and quickly clawed his hypodermic glove into a shoulder. "That's one!"

Adari'a turned around to grab Dexter, howling in rage. "You're coming to hell with me, brat!"

Dexter yelped, quickly finding his neck vulnerable. "JACK! Help me! H-"

Adari'a reared up into an impressive backflip, managing to use two of the Archanis children for leverage as she held Dexter in her forearms. She crashed backwards into the ground, protectively clutching her prey as she opened her jaw wide, closing it around Dexter's throat.

"She's eati . . .agh . . ." Dexter groaned, even as Adari'a tore into his windpipe. His eyes were starting to glass over as she let go, already feeling the affects of the poison in her system.

She glared down at the Hobbit's face, still noting that glimmer of consciousness. "Worth it?"

Dexter said nothing, his mouth only moving in reflex now as he blacked out, and soon after, Adari'a did the same, his blood still on her muzzle.

Cypress noticed her partner fall. "Addy? Addy!"

"Worry more about yourself right now!" Maggie growled, reaching out to try and wrench at least one of the Zillan's arms behind her.

"Maggie, pull back!" Rose shouted up as she placed a spider-clawed charge against Adari'a's flank. "Maggie, can you hear me?!"

"Dexter!" Jack went for his little brother, picking up Dexter's body, prodding the jaw up enough to see the extensive throat wound. "I'll take care of him. You two, get Maggie off that lizard!"

Penny leapt up onto Cypress, latching onto her neck in her attempts to elbow Maggie off. "Are you deaf, you idiot? Get OFF her!"

"What?" She turned, almost offended. Rose saw Dimitri, Clank, and Al heading their way, and quickly leapt up to grab Maggie's feet as well.

"MOVE!" Penny yanked on her sister one more time as they fell to the dirt, scrambling to their feet. Penny glanced over at Adari'a long enough to notice her disappear. "Move, damn it!"

"But we need both!" Maggie protested.

"Trust me, the shiek's reward'll be enough! MOVE!" Penny spoke, picking Maggie up to run with her, while Rose dove into a cotton candy stall and out the back for cover. More and more began to take notice and arrive on the scene, despite Courtney working as a distraction.

Jigsaw and Ratchet were running full stop to the scene of the ambush, but by the time they arrived, the Archanis children were long gone, and Adari'a with them. Jigsaw's eyebrows looked like they were about to fly off her face in such rage.

"She's gone, she's gone!" Cypress cried out, grabbing onto Jigsaw in panic.

"Damn it, girl, don't start now . . . crowd control, come on, we need to NOT have this right here . . . !" Jigsaw hissed, her eyes making it clear she was in mental anguish.

"To the bathrooms!" Ratchet barked out, ordering Al, Clank, and Dimitri to help push Cypress back away from the crowd, into a more secluded section of the festival area.

Cypress was still howling, even when pushed back into the less populated spot. "No . . . Addy! You can't let them take her . . ."

"God damn it . . ." Jigsaw's eyes went narrow. "Of all the times to be doing this . . . Someone get Gangrel over here. I'm not letting the tabloids get a hold of this!" She turned towards her 'men'. "Clank, ping Gangrel! Al, get over here and make sure Cypress's eyes are covered! Dimitri, make sure anyone in the area gets hustled out of here faster than you can sign 'What the fuck'!"

"Yeah? We've still got Cypress going hysterical over here! What are you-?" Ratchet spoke as Al laid his hands over Cypress's eyes, and Cypress quickly shuddered down, quelled into small, silent sobbing. "Oh, so that's how you do it . . ."

A fresh voice started to protest, though. "Let me in there!"

"Oh, SH-!"

"What?" The blonde-banged Lombax stormed in, with Clockwork right behind her. "If you think I was going to ignore that poor girl's cries for help just because you-!"

"Mom, stay out of this!" Ratchet barked.

"So, you're his 'Eema', eh?" Jigsaw smiled, before her eyes went wide. "WOAH!"

Lovelace's head turned for Jigsaw. "And who might you be?"

"I think the better question would be for me to ask who you are . . ." Jigsaw spoke, still stunned.

The two stared at each other, both with steeled eyes, before Jigsaw began to falter in her stance. A moment later, she fell to her knees, looking up at Lovelace. Clockwork had a double-take cross his face before sidling over to Ratchet. "Does your friend normally act this subserivent?"

"Never . . ." Ratchet blinked, confused.

Clank tapped on Jigsaw's shoulder, as though trying to break her out of a trance. "Madam, the _Gangrel _is ready."

"Sure . . . get the others aboard." Jigsaw spoke, slowly, as though she wasn't quite there. Lovelace was silent, still fiercely glaring. Her mind felt like a steel trap to Jigsaw's powers, and Jigsaw just couldn't bear to rip herself away from it. Whatever she was, she was more powerful than Jigsaw had ever suspected.

"Move! Move!" Ratchet barked out, as Al and the others led Cypress away to the safety of Gangrel. "You too, Dad. I'll get Mom and Jigsaw to follow as soon as I figure out how to break those two up."

"Done."

Jigsaw slowly stood up, as Lovelace's head shook in shock. Ratchet blinked, then clapped his hands. "All right, then... let's move."

"Yes, let's." Jigsaw spoke, looking deadly serious once more.

Lovelace began to turn away, trying to leave, but Jigsaw grabbed her shoulder, rooting her to the spot. "What do you want? This isn't my battle!"

"It's always your battle. You seem to have forgotten that." Jigsaw spoke, her fur starting to stand on end. "Scout Veldin . . . I believe it's time for you to get back to work."


	41. The Star Road Less Traveled

_A charlatan I  
Noble and wild  
Hustlin' for tricks to help you feel loved  
And we all need a shoulder to cry on  
Once in a while_

_And there won't be a dry eye  
In the house tonight . . ._

- "Blackened Blue Eyes" by Charlatans UK

**Chapter 40  
The Star Road Less Traveled**

* * *

  
Before Lovelace could answer, Ratchet and Clockwork both grabbed hold of her, dragging her to the _Gangrel_. Once Jigsaw had scrambled on board after the rest of them, Gangrel's maw closed shut, and everyone on board felt the momentary lurch of dustoff.

Lovelace quickly broke free of Ratchet's and Clockwork's grip, storming for Jigsaw. "How DARE you insist I get involved in this lizard's hormonal rampage!"

"Listen, Veldin, twenty years is enough time to get over yourself." Jigsaw gave her a knowing glance. "And yes, I know you went through hell back then. Trust me, you're not the first and you damn well weren't the last."

Cypress blinked, jarred out of her angst for a moment. "She's the girl from those Year of Fear tapes?"

"THE Scout Veldin." Jigsaw glanced back at her. "I'm as shocked as you are. For once, I wish I still had Daisy around. The more members of the Synthesis, the better, it would seem . . ."

"You know of the-!" Lovelace growled, before hardening her eyes. "I recommend you tell me now just how many of the Synthesis you know of . . . I know the Groom's one of them, but tell me the rest!"

Jigsaw rolled her eyes. "It's irrelevant right now. Now calm down."

Ratchet groaned. "I can tell this is going to be a long night . . ."

Clockwork shook his head. "I know; where's the popcorn when you need it?"

Lovelace growled, giving Jigsaw the once-over in her ceremonial garb. "I'm not taking orders from some dolled-up-!"

"Lovey, I'm the Protectorate. If there's ANYONE you take orders from, it's me, got it?" Jigsaw pointed out. "Right now, I have debriefing to get in order here. First things first; Where's Addy?"

"I don't know! I remember Dexter getting on her back and then she went for his throat, then she collapsed, and that damned Hobbit-girl was trying to fight me . . . the next thing I knew, they ran off and she was gone!" Cypress exclaimed, still shell-shocked. "I don't know how else to-!"

"Hang on." Jigsaw spoke, twirling her finger like she wanted Cypress to back up. "You're glossing over a lot of details . . ."

Cypress blinked, trying to remember more clearly. "One of the girls mentioned something about a Shee . . . Shiek? I'm trying to remember how she said it . . ."

Jigsaw made a face. "A shiek? The hell would a- . . . wait a minute, wait a minute . . ."

"It makes sense now. Dexter's poisons didn't down Addy immediately because she has so much more blood than the average being . . . if it was a lethal poison, she would have dropped much faster, right?" Cypress spoke, twigging it. "So if their intent wasn't to kill her, then they must have some other purpose in mind!"

"But mentioning the shiek only makes sense if they're talking about her-." Jigsaw blinked. "If they're talking about her father . . . or at least someone from Aridia." She glanced over at Dimitri. "Judging by what you're adding into the discussion, one of them must have added some inventory tag to Adari'a so she could be carried away easily . . . at least for a little while. Once she wakes up she's not about to let herself sit still enough to stay in there."

"This is all fascinating detective work you're doing right now," Lovelace butted in, "But what does any of it mean? Aside from knowing this 'Addy' person is relatively safe, wherever she is . . ."

"Well, I'm still a little hazy on what's going on here." Jigsaw remarked, turning back to Ratchet's mother. "But my guess is that whatever those children had in mind, they were trying to kidnap Adari'a — for what purpose, I have no idea — and they mentioned a shiek, which leads me to believe that they're planning to take her back to Aridia."

"So maybe her family wanted her back?" The grayed Lombax offered with a tone of two parts helpful and one part sarcastic.

"We don't know. If it's her family, it's likely to get out why she left in the first place — and then they'll want to kill her, or at least be tribally bound to. If it's not her family-"

"And it very well might not be. Remember what 'Prince Tairu' tried to pull a few weeks before the season finale?" Cypress offered, trying to be helpful.

"Like I could forget!" Jigsaw snapped, before continuing, "Long story short, if someone was willing to pay those kids to bring Adari'a back home, they're just the type of henchmen to accept the offer."

"And what makes you so sure you're getting the truth?" Lovelace remarked. "You're making a huge number of assumptions based off a single word!"

Jigsaw shrugged. "Are you honestly telling me you never followed your instincts in your youth?"

"Instinct is best bolstered with some hard evidence behind it!" She snapped. "I would hope I instilled that in my son. I can tell your parents didn't do the same with you . . ."

Jigsaw chuckled. "A love of evidence and a love of logic aren't always the same, you know."

"Mom . . . " Ratchet groaned, before adding in, "Besides all of this, what WERE those kids doing here before all of this drama took place?"

Jigsaw paused, confounded for just a moment, before Gangrel spoke up. "The _Carnival Mortis_ was being brought to Veldin along with the Vox Convoy. This, combined with their scheduled series premiere of _Cirque du Mortis_ for tomorrow night, suggests that they're down here primarily for the show."

"Then we have no reason not to believe that this 'kidnapping' is not a diversion to keep the rest of us from being able to investigate their program and make sure that they're wholly 'on the level'." Clank spoke up, chipping in.

"Clank's right." Clockwork remarked. "I don't know how many of you have been following television lately, but this Cirque thing screams 'rebirth of DreadZone' all over it. And Ratchet, as good as you were on there the first time-."

"We can't let them restart this mess." Ratchet finished his father's sentence. "Look, Addy could just as easily be getting forced into their new show as she could be ending up halfway home by now. And either way we can't let this new show go without a once-over. If we don't tail them now, we'll be having to follow this stupid fleet all over the galaxy, and by then it might already be too late!"

Jigsaw looked at a loss for words, then threw her hands up. "We've got no choice, then. As stupid as it sounds, we've got to be in two places at once. The only way to accomplish that is to split up — we need to spy on the new Vox program AND investigate wherever they've taken Adari'a."

Cypress chirped up immediately. "Perfect! I'll head to Aridia and-!"

"Hang on, are you nuts?" Jigsaw shot back. "I'm going to be investigating this circus, so I can't come with you. That means for starters, you'd need a translator."

"I'm sure I know enough of the language to at least fake it!" Cypress spoke, and then her voice switched over to a hard, guttural growl that made the rest of the crew aboard take a step back, unfamiliar with the language she now spoke.

Only Jigsaw seemed unfazed. "I see all that pillow talk's paid off. Fine, how about 'enough fabric to make a tarp for your body' and a competent male to go with you? I'm not sure what you'll expect as a foreigner, but we've both heard enough of her stories to be reasonably certain of how sexist and modest their culture is. If you expect to get anywhere in this, you'll either need to dress like a man or bring one with you."

Cypress blinked, slightly taken aback. "I'm pretty sure I could pass myself off as one . . ."

"She seems rather adamant about this . . . a little too gung-ho, even." Al remarked, amazed.

"I figured she'd be fairly useless trying to tag along with me anyway." Jigsaw shook her head. "I'm fine with that, I just don't want her going alone. A girl that valuable needs bodyguards regardless."

Ratchet took a deep breath, glancing up at Cypress. She seemed so familiar now, especially after his near-death incident with the beheading . . . and something about her crocodile tears just wanted to wrench at his heart somehow. "I'll go with Cypress."

Jigsaw glanced over at him. "You sure? It's gonna be a good stretch of a trip."

"You're already checking out the circus; as much as I would love to somehow find a way to beat Miss Avon's and the rest of those brats' faces in, I'll let you handle the spy work. You seem better suited to that stuff anyway, so . . ." Ratchet spoke, wincing as though it hurt him to somehow admit the next part. " . . . I trust you know what you're doing."

Jigsaw smiled, genuinely touched. "Thank you, Ratchet. I'm glad to hear it."

Ratchet walked over towards Cypress, standing with her, glancing upwards. "I damn well hope this is worth it."

"I want to go with Ratchet!" Clank spoke up, but then found himself grabbed from behind by Dimitri. "You want to go with me?"

"I think you and Dimitri will need to be a package deal." Jigsaw shrugged. "I would much rather keep Dimitri here . . . and while you certainly could go with Ratchet, I'd worry that the local tribesmen would just as soon destroy you because they thought you were a possessed demon, or the desert climate would beat them to it."

"With all due respect, Madam, I've already been on Aridia's surface several times. I believe I can handle the climate down there quite well." Clank remarked. "And as useful as I am with Dimitri, if he's staying with you, I don't see why you can't do without me."

Jigsaw pondered it for a moment, before glancing up. "Gangrel, any chance we can scorch-proof Clank here so he'll be safe on the surface?"

"We'll need some extra materials, but the local fabricator at Elysium should be able to suit our needs." Gangrel spoke, trying to be helpful. "I'm already devising a setup for Clank as we speak."

Jigsaw nodded. "All right, Clank; looks like you get your wish after all."

Ratchet blinked. "Al . . .?"

"Count me out."

Ratchet chuckled. "Look, if you're hung up on Jigsaw, just say so."

"No, I mean count me OUT." Al spoke, hands splayed out. "I'm not about to go traipsing around some desert, and between Jigsaw, Dimitri, your parents . . . I have to say, I'm not cut out for this whole 'running around the galaxy' thing. I'll stick around on _Gangrel _if you want, but otherwise-!"

"Al, Gangrel's going to need to at least take them to Aridia." Jigsaw pointed out.

"Fine by me!" Al shot back.

"Well, that settles everyone, then . . ." Jigsaw glanced over at Clockwork and Lovelace. "When we touch down, I'll let you go on about your business, Mr. Wrench. Your wife, however . . ."

"I already told you, I'm through with this!"

"No, because if you were, you'd have turned in your medallion years ago. I'm either going to make you surrender it, or you're getting back to work; make your decision." Jigsaw remarked. "You can either come with me and help infiltrate the Vox Network, or you can go with your son and assist him with finding Princess Adari'a."

"Are you out of your mind?" She growled, throughly disturbed.

"I'm possibly the sanest one on the ship right now. Your only other choice is to hand over your medallion." Jigsaw spoke, her hand out. " You can't refuse my orders and you know it. What's it going to be, Lovey?"

She looked at Jigsaw, then at Ratchet, before reaching into her shirt and pulling out a circular medallion, holding it up to let the star-shaped gem gleam. "You . . ."

"I can see this is a hard decision." Jigsaw remarked, her contempt barely hidden underneath the surface. "Let me put it in slightly more uplifting terms then: you can go with your son and attempt to work out the kinks in your complex and clearly fractured relationship; you can go with me on a fun little spy jaunt, and as further incentive I'll see if I can't get inside your head long enough to try and fix your Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder that you've been suffering from, along with a few other nervous tics I'm sure you've developed as a result; or you can resign, and enjoy the rest of your days as a mild-mannered Lombax popping out kittens or whatever the heck it is you're expected to do these days."

Her ears perked up slightly. " . . . are you honestly offering to cure me? _Me_?"

"Let's just say my abilities are more than you could have ever hoped for in this regard." Jigsaw smirked, before adding on. "So . . . ready to play?"

Her own smirk was mirrored by the elder woman's. "You've got yourself a secret agent!"

_One series of packed bags (and an errand) later . . ._

"Here's hoping you're in better shape when I see you next, Eema." Ratchet spoke, holding his mother tight. "Dad, make sure Jigsaw doesn't somehow make her worse . . ."

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on this whole mission one way or another." Clockwork smiled, giving his son a quick hug as well. "Good luck on your little trip with your friends."

Ratchet nodded, before glancing over to Jigsaw. "And I'm serious about that last remark . . ."

"Your Mother'll be fine, Ratchet. Certainly can't make her much worse." Jigsaw shot back, trying to remain as 'regal' as possible.

The two stood in tense silence, before finally settling on a quick ear-tug to wish each other off, and then Dimitri stood in front of Ratchet, offering the same.

Cypress's goodbyes were a little quicker, mostly because the only one she really seemed to care about was Jigsaw, but soon after, Gangrel opened her maw to let the Lombaxes off at Elysium, before quickly shutting her hatches and accelerating to start on her path for Aridia.

"Well, if anyone needs me, I'll be down in engineering." Al remarked, quickly absconding to the depths of the ship, leaving Ratchet and Cypress to their own devices.

Ratchet glanced up at her. "Where's Clank? I know the words 'Scorch-Proofing' were mentioned . . ."

"I'm right here, Ratchet."

Ratchet glanced across the hangar, before his eyes went wide. Clank was there — or at least it SHOULD have been Clank — except that instead of a small robot standing there, there was an equally small, furry, four-legged thing; a lion centaur cub, from the looks of him. The only hints that it was a robot was the experimental gait; the lanky, almost skeletal body; and the glowing green eyes that seemed to be Clank's trademark.

Ratchet's eyes went even wider. "What the heck did they DO to you?"

"It appears that Gangrel installed some additional servos and limbs to better emulate the native life, and in addition to this has added on a special breathable covering to hide my more 'robotic' features as well as for temperature control." Clank spoke up, turning his head to look up at Ratchet. "I feel the alterations are 'necessary but not sufficient', since I'm concerned my voice is a dead giveaway still, but at least it is 'enough' to evade initial detections."

"Well, hey . . . as long as you're not expecting to ride on my back in that get-up, I think it'll do just fine." Ratchet smirked, kneeling down to run a hand through Clank's mahogany mane. "You almost look cute like that!"

"Is that a good thing?"

"As good as anything else can go for right now . . ." Ratchet looked up, noting the despondent look on Cypress's face. "We should probably get changed up into some decent desert-wear for ourselves; it's easily a few hours to Aridia."

"Eight hours and thirteen minutes." Gangrel chimed in. "While assembling Clank's taur-suit, I was able to develop some fabric that I think will come in handy on Aridia's surface. If you'll head for Al, I think you'll like the results."

Clank lead the way, still having to get used to only his synthetic claws clicking against the surface of the metal, even slipping a few times as he ran, before Cypress and Ratchet showed up in Engineering. Al turned, smiling. "Hey there, you two! Gangrel's been showing me the specs on these get-ups, and I can tell that you two are going to have fun with this! Ratchet, arms out, please."

"Does that mean you've reconsidered not coming with us?" Ratchet remarked, holding his arms out while Al got his measurements.

"Hell no; After what I had to do to Clank to help him blend in? There's no way!" Al snapped back, bending down to get some of Ratchet's leg measurements. "Er . . . you didn't pick up any new armor when we got all those robot parts for Clank, did you?"

The Lombax winced. "Shit!"

"No worries; Actually, Gangrel seems to suggest that standard armor might be too heavy for the region. I've got enough spare parts from your DreadZone gear to pick out the better bits and retrofit them so you'll still have the important parts covered, and as a bonus, they'll fit underneath your new outfit as well."

"New outfit? Come on, don't tell me I need a whole new suit like Clank did!" Ratchet replied, eyes wide.

"No, but Cypress needs the coverage, and you probably need it too." Al spoke, bobbling back up as he wrote down his findings. "By the time we're on the surface, I ought to have these ready for you to wear. Cypress's measurements are already in Gangrel's mainframe, so I won't need to worry about hers."

"Well . . . great! But what are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Cypress spoke up, scratching the back of her neck.

"I don't know . . . sleep?" Al shrugged. "I'm going to be plenty busy with this, so there ought to be something you two can accomplish while we're en route."

Ratchet nodded, heading off, even as he held Clank's hand to help him get a grip on the floor beneath him. "Hopefully having all those extra feet will help more on a natural floor . . ."

"I hope so." Clank spoke, weakly trying to latch onto Ratchet's back for help as the two made their way to the bridge. "I know I don't usually talk like this, Ratchet . . . but I have a bad feeling about this. All these preparations lead me to believe we're heading into a situation we're nowhere near suited for."

"Yeah, I know . . . but hey, we're talking about a word that never fully made contact. We've got to blend in somehow."

"But doesn't that imply that there was a reason Aridia is only classified as 'restricted contact'?" Clank added on. "Gangrel, do you have any idea why?"

Gangrel seemed to hesitate for a moment. "According to my research, Aridia was granted contact solely for its raritanium mining facilities. The local kingdoms on the planet appear to be locked in constant war with each other, however, and are estimated not to reach full contact levels for another 500 years until their societies evolve to an acceptable status. Due to a strong caste system and highly theocratic institutions, several attempts to accelerate their societies has resulted in . . . less than optimal results."

Ratchet blinked. "Are they at least going to react well to other species down there?"

"I'm not certain." Gangrel replied, in a more muted tone now. "Approach with extreme caution, Ratchet."


	42. Into the Fire

**Chapter 42  
Into the Fire**

_Assure me it's ok  
to use my heart and not my eyes  
To navigate the darkness  
Will the ending be ever coming suddenly?  
Will I ever get to see the ending to my story?_

- "Crawling in the Dark" by Hoobastank

* * *

"Jigsaw, get out here, damn it! And bring the mad scientist with you!" Ace barked, standing at the threshold of Black Hole Sun's prison wing. Geisha and Poison were beside him, and Ace kept glancing back at the Kendril. "And damn it, boy, don't you have anything that's not a dress?" 

"This one's a kilt!" Geisha snapped back.

Ace rolled his eyes, before prodding at the keypad again. "Come on, 'Captain', get out here!"

"Are we sure she's even in there?" White Noise chimed in, with Xanatos looking on in mild interest.

Poison smirked. "It's five in the morning. She's either in there or she's sleeping with the bosses, and considering she's a little too small for those sorts of relations. . ."

"Can we keep the speculations about my sex life or lack thereof quiet until more of the ship's awake to hear it?"

The four men and woman blinked, then turned around to see Jigsaw standing there, wide awake, and most definitely not on the side of the prison wing's gate that they were expecting. Ace raised an eyebrow in shock. "Exactly what are you doing out of your wing at this hour?"

"I was about to ask you all the same question." Jigsaw remarked, crossing her arms. "I didn't feel like sleeping tonight. What's your excuses?"

"Listen, rodent, just bring the one-legged chick out here so we can get this over with." Geisha snapped, before adding on. "We need to get her . . . acclimated."

Jigsaw frowned, picking up on the innuendo a little too well. "I have to ask . . . exactly why would I want to let you five haze Ms. Archanis?"

"Because she deserves it, that's why." Ace remarked. "Honestly, it's a stupid question . . ."

"She doesn't 'deserve' anything, Hardlight." White Noise rebuked him, before turning to Jigsaw. "It's nothing personal. The girl's a criminal; you already know that much."

"So?"

"So, it's fairly common knowledge that the prison system isn't very 'kind' to its guests." He leaned up against the wall, forgetting that Xanatos was being squashed in doing so for a moment. He caught himself, freeing the Cazar before adding on, "If Miss Daisy wishes to earn some respect as a convict, we'd like to make sure she's truly 'one of us'."

"That's the stupidest thing I've heard in a while. You guys seemed to accept me just fine . . . well, after that last episode in the slaughterhouse, at least."

"How many 'civilians' do you think would go head-first into an ecoterror strike like that?" Xanatos replied. "You even killed a man, for gods' sakes! A few more episodes like that and I don't think we'll be able to tell you from the criminals anymore."

"And at this rate, that can only help you keep your ass intact out here." Ace added on. "We're not going to hurt your grunt if that makes you feel better. I've seen this done at Kazan enough to know that they only push the 'fresh meat' until they earn a nickname."

"Don't give me that. Not everyone here's picked up a nick." She rolled her eyes.

"No, they're all got 'em; It's just that not everyone here can actually have their nick said on camera." Poison chuckled. "Up until we came here, we all used to call London 'pickle-dick'."

Geisha glanced over at her. "No, that's only what we all started calling him after the guards decided we were having too much fun calling him-!"

"Do I even want to hear the story behind this?" Jigsaw held her face, trying to figure out just why she was even entertaining the idea.

"Maybe after we're done with Daisy here." Geisha remarked, before bending down to get in Jigsaw's face. "For right now, just get that woman and her metal metatarsals out here before we have to find a nickname for you too."

_-zip!-_

"We're approaching atmosphere." Gangrel intoned, turning off the recordings. "Please prepare to depart."

"Aw, man . . ." Al spoke up, watching from one of the side screens in the docking bay. "That was about to get good, too."

"I believe we have more important matters to keep watch on." Clank spoke, standing beside Al. "I've given Ratchet and Cypress their new materiel. They will be here shortly."

Al nodded, "All right, Clank: If either of those two starts to overheat or gets in trouble, ping back to Gangrel so the two of us can get over there and help you, all right?"

Clank raised an eyebrow from within his centaur-suit. "I don't think you'll be of much help if that occurs."

"Yeah, but this ship's got guns to blaze now, remember?" Al smirked. "You'll probably be in constant communiqué with her anyway, but if you're in a tight spot, don't be shy."

"Come on, look who you're talking to." Ratchet chuckled, walking towards the bridge's exit in a billowy outfit that reminded him more of a dress than an outfit. At least he was able to wear some armor under it. "We'll be fine, honest!"

"Hopefully we'll be back before you even realize we've been gone." Cypress added on, trotting ahead. "The Sheik can't be too bad."

"Just make sure to park the scuttle-pod someplace we'll remember to pick it up at, and it'll be fine." Al handed Ratchet a small map of the general area. "Avoid the areas where there's actual civilization. Remember, this part of Aridia's restricted, and if we have any intentions of picking it up later we have to make sure we're not seen."

Ratchet nodded, then gave Al a smile. "Relax, these things are easy to fly. We'll pick some out-of-the-way butte and nobody'll even know."

"Yeah? Make sure of it." Al spoke, crossing his arms, before looking at Ratchet with concern. "Good luck down there, and . . . come back in one piece this time, okay? "

_One scuttle-pod landing later... _

Ratchet yelped as the blistering sun hit his eyes, pulling his headdress further down around his face. "I don't believe it... this place is actually WORSE than Veldin!"

"Yeah... you may want to let me carry you to the city. Your feet won't get you far in this sand."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "And yours will?"

"Better than you can do!" She smirked, dropping to all fours. "These legs were built for shifty ground. Hop on and let's get moving!"

Ratchet couldn't help but chuckle, his mind doing a mental flashback as he tugged on her sleeve to climb up and straddle her shoulders. "Lead on, Mistress."

"Mistress?" Cypress spoke back, blinking. "Whatever . . ."

Cypress quickly broke into a full gallop, dashing across dunes and ergs. The wind blew against their backs, the hot sand on Cypress's heels making her run faster, keeping an intense but consistent gallop as she ran. Ratchet latched onto her for dear life, but he couldn't help but smile at feeling that raw rush of energy. Hovercraft didn't quite give you the same level of hanging on for dear life.

The city came into view quickly enough for his taste, and Ratchet dismounted at the city gates, smirking at the doors of the city. "These guys don't mess around, do they?"

"Let me take it from here." Cypress spoke up, before calling out high to the tops of the gate. Sure enough, they opened, and Ratchet and Cypress soon slipped inside.

The interior of the city at least looked livelier than the exterior. Reeds covered most of the passageways, and colorful fabrics traversed the rest; but what caught Ratchet was the silence. Everywhere there were lively voices and livelier children, but as Ratchet and Cypress walked through the corridors, they dropped silent, watching with curious, piercing eyes.

"They must not be used to foreigners." Ratchet whispered back to Cypress.

She shrugged, still on all fours. "I bet they're not used to seeing too many people with just four limbs, either. They can't be that uncommon, but . . ."

Ratchet nodded, keeping his eyes on the largest structure in the city. "We better keep this brief, then. I'm betting her parents are up there, right?"

"Assuming her father is still in power." Cypress spoke, but quickly broke into a slow trot as she became more anxious to see if her first hunch was right. Ratchet had to sprint to keep up, but he managed just fine, at least until the entrance, where twin guards stood in their way.

One of them broke into a low growl. "Your business."

"We seek audience with Sheik Tizao." Cypress spoke, trying to be as crisp in her words as possible. "Our business concerns one of his daughters."

"And why would we let you concern yourself with his daughters?" The other guard spoke up. "Planning to _marry_ one?"

Cypress's eyes turned level. "That is for the Sheik to know and for you to find out once the rumors filter down to your level. I believe he should be the first to hear what I have to say about Princess Adari'a."

The guards blinked upon hearing the name, and then quickly fell back, stunned. Moments later, Ratchet and Cypress found themselves being flanked by those same guards as soon as they entered the palace proper. Ratchet kept quiet, eying Clank's current position in a small satchel crossing Cypress's Torso, being held out of the way but still able to observe.

"The Sheik is sitting in court now. You will be allowed inside once he admits your presence." The first guard spoke, holding his glaive high. "We will keep watch over the two children for you."

Ratchet blinked. "Two?"

Cypress turned her head back to the guard. "These two are important to my message."

"The Sheik insists that at least one of the group must remain outside the court's doors. He has grown suspicious in his age." The guard reiterated. "Which one stays out here?"

Cypress frowned, but soon removed her satchel bearing Clank, handing both of them to the guard. He looked down at Clank, peering inside to see the rest of the 'cub's body. "Why do his eyes glow? Has he been cursed by the Jinn?"

"He was born that way." Cypress spoke, giving him a non-answer. The guard gave her an uneasy glance, but the second guard soon held the door open.

"Yield your presence to the Sheik of the Sun!" The second guard bellowed out as the two entered the room, gazing back upon a large, lavish auditorium, where on the other edge of the room there sat a robed figure among several lavish cushions, upon the raised platform, with at least four other guards surrounding him.

Cypress edged closer, cautious. "Your Highness, I am-!"

"Silence!" "Speak when spoken to!"

"Enough." The robed figure spoke in a language Ratchet finally understood as the reddish taur lifted his head high, black stripes on his face and neck belying the feathers that adorned his headdress. "I am Sheik Adom'ai Ku'vou, Chief of the Tizao. Who are you, to enter my domain?"

"I am Cy . . . Cyrus, Patriatch of the Vox Clan of Rilgar. My smaller friend here is Ratchet, defender of Veldin." Cypress spoke, making sure to catch herself.

The Sheik nodded, sitting up a little higher in attention. "Welcome, Cyrus. Welcome, Ratchet. You may now approach."

Ratchet eased forward carefully, still nervous. Adari'a was already large, but each of these guards looked like they could dwarf her... and even her father was big enough that given the chance he could probably swallow Ratchet in one gulp. Cypress moved with a little more ease, but not much.

"You have traveled quite far to visit me with news of my daughter. Speak now, though I warn you, I will not take the insult of my daughter's memory lightly if your words anger me."

"Her memory?" Cypress shook her head. "Your highness, we came here to find her. We were under the impression she had been returned to you recently."

"She's alive?!" The king reared back, rising up from his seat, almost setting the guards off. "Impossible! I demand proof!"

"I have seen her in combat several times. She-!"

"In combat?" A look of disbelief rang clear. "Do you expect me to believe she left my protection to become a warrior?"

"One of the galaxy's finest." Ratchet spoke up, before earning a quick swat.

Cypress glared at him, hissing her displeasure. "Be more careful with your words!"

"I am still not convinced . . . I want to believe you, but I cannot." The sheik sighed. "I have not seen my blessed Fire in over five years . . . I find it hard to believe that were she still alive, she would not at least attempt to return to me."

"I am not sure what we could offer as more proof to you . . ." Cypress spoke, concerned.

Ratchet shrugged, before snapping his fingers. "The discs."

"Those won't work. He'll think they're just magic." Cypress whispered back to Ratchet.

The sheik's ears were too sharp to miss that. "What discs?"

"We have evidence . . . recordings of her in battle." Cypress clarified. "Our technology allows us to record events as they occur so they can be watched later. We can show you your daughter in battle."

The sheik smiled, as though this were too good to be true. "Do you have them with you now?"

"We would have to return later to show them to you."

"Then do so. I may not be able to help you find my daughter, but I will be most delighted to see her face again . . . even if only one from the past." The sheik spoke, standing up. "May the-"

"Get that brat!"

"Ratchet! Cypress!" Clank shouted, still running with an uneasy gait as he tried to enter the room, avoiding the guards's motions.

"Clank, stop it!" Cypress growled, perturbed.

"Ratchet!" Clank galloped further in, arms waving high. "Something's wrong!"

"Clank, not now . . ."

"Ratchet, Gangrel's -!"

"Clank, please!" Cypress hissed. "We're in court. We can't afford to blow our cover here. Tell Gangrel to hold the message until we're through."

Clank stood up, lips almost in a snarl. "I can't."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Just then, two more guards barged in, screaming out their roars. Cypress's eyes flew wide, understanding them immediately. She gave the shiek a hasty bow, before turning and bolting for the door. Ratchet blinked, before looking back at Clank. "What's going on?"

"Gangrel has sent out two messages within the past five minutes. One of them was a distress signal broadcasted on public channels." Clank spoke up again, attempting to keep his eyes steady. "Immediately afterwards, she sent me her gestalt."

"Her g-?! Oh, SH-! . . ." Ratchet ran after Cypress, looking upwards. Behind him, he could hear the guards and the sheik running after him, spurning the Lombax to run faster. He finally stopped once he could see daylight again, the guards still right behind him. Against the bold Aridian sky in hues of red and gold, there was a thick column of black smoke overhead, splitting the sky in two. "No . . ."

Cypress was standing a good twenty yards ahead, looking up high, her mouth agape. Ratchet began to walk towards her, then stopped, his shoulders dropping as though he already understood what had gone wrong.

Clank's eyes quickly became somber. "Ratchet . . .?"

"Clank, ping Gangrel." The Lombax spoke with gritted teeth. "_Now._"

Clank stood still for a moment in his attempt, and then shook his head. "I can't, Ratchet. She's not responding. She must be offline."

Ratchet just stared, looking out into the smoke again. "They're gone . . ."


	43. Up in Smoke

**Chapter 43  
Up in Smoke**

_The noose gets tighter around my throat  
But I ain't at the end of my rope 'cause  
I won't be the one left behind  
Can't be king of the world  
If you're slave to the grind . . ._

- "Slave to the Grind" by Skid Row

* * *

Cypress stood there, just watching the smoke, standing completely still. Ratchet would've done the same, except for when Sheik Adom brought his head down to whisper in Ratchet's ear. "Let me guess; your 'proof' was on that chariot?" 

"More than you want to know . . ." Ratchet groaned, holding his face. "I need a moment, please."

The Sheik nodded, as though he understood. "Very well. Would you like my mathematicians to triangulate where it landed?"

"Sure. Just . . . give us some time here. I need to think."

The king nodded, as though he understood. "Return inside when you are ready."

As soon as the Shiek and his guards had returned inside, Ratchet dropped to his knees, eyes shut. Clank took a few steps closer, but the keen gasping coming from Ratchet halted him just as fast. He attempted to put a hand on the Lombax's shoulder, only to feel it shake.

"Dammit, I can't take this again . . ." Ratchet spoke, his hands on his arms as though trying to hold himself together.

"You don't think-?"

"I don't know . . ." Ratchet spoke, still heaving hard. "If the ship was coming in like that, It'd need a water landing or something to survive . . . Al's smart, but he's no pilot."

"Actually, I was referring to the source of the attack rather than the survival rate." Clank spoke, causing Ratchet's ears to fuzz up in anger, slicking themselves back.

The next words coming off the Lombax chimed like icicles. " . . . go on."

"Gangrel indicated that she'd been hit by turret fire when she came to sub-atmospheric levels . . . Her course matches a designated route for one of the nearer outposts, but apparently she'd been hit upon interception." Clank explained, hands open as though grasping for better reasoning. "She must have been seeking out a port to land at, rather than waiting in orbit."

Ratchet's voice was still icy. "Why would she do that?"

"As a restricted planet, keeping spacecraft visible from the surface for more than 24 hours is against galactic policy. She must have expected that we would be taking our time."

"Well, we don't have much choice in that now." Ratchet muttered, sitting down, his eyes still shut in disbelief. He didn't want to lose Al — and certainly not AGAIN. He had enough insanity going on in the galaxy without losing one of the few people he'd come to depend on. Just because Al didn't shoot anything or run around on missions with him didn't mean he still wasn't important. Especially not after DreadZone.

Ratchet sat there, visibly shaking. He didn't move from the spot until Cypress walked back a few steps, picking him up. "Ratchet . . .?"

"Put me down." He spoke, still refusing to open his eyes.

"Shh, come on." She held him close, placing one hand over his eyes. "Relax. I've got your eyes covered for you, okay?"

Ratchet let his eyelids flutter into the now-restricted view, already starting to calm down now that he didn't have to hold his face so tight. So _that_ was why Cypress liked this trick.

He could almost her her smiling. "Feeling better?"

"No."

"Focus for now. What did the Sheik say to you?"

Ratchet shuddered. "Something about triangulating the crash site."

"We may as well ask for it from him. If nothing else, we can survey the site and figure out just how badly off we currently are." Cypress spoke as she walked. "With any luck we'll be there within a day."

Ratchet curled up tighter in her arms. "You don't seem as disturbed by this . . ."

"No, having Addy taken out from right under my snout was disturbing. This is Murphy's law." Cypress rolled her eyes. "Besides, flaming and smoldering vehicles in the air tend to mean that the crash itself isn't very fiery. If we're lucky, she might've burned off all her fuel before she hit and so we only have to worry about structural damage."

Ratchet perked up at that. "So Al might still be alive?"

"I can't say for certain." Cypress responded, walking back inside the palace. "But there's probably plenty left of him, at least."

The sheik was standing inside, still surrounded by several guards, but allowing his robes to fall around him. "Ah, my visitors!"

Cypress gave the sheik a nod, walking towards him. "My apologies for the outburst . . ."

"I hardly think you can claim to be at fault for this — The child, though, I worry about him."

Cypress blinked. "There's nothing wrong with him."

"His eyes glow. Did you honestly think all our kind looked like that?"

Cypress's face grew flush, confused. "I've only seen so many so close . . ."

The sheik blinked, then narrowed his eyes in slight suspicion. "Is he my daughter's?"

Before Cypress could rebuke the insinuation, a voice erupted from one corridor. "Your Highness, we've finished!"

Cypress blinked, looking at the sheet of parchment another taur handed her, this time speaking standard. "14 degrees North of East, we know that much. It could be twenty miles away, it could be two hundred, but we can tell you which way to start walking. You'll need to be quick though; the Vani are in that direction."

"Thank you . . ." Cypress blinked, staring at the sheet. "What are the Vani?"

"We don't really understand it ourselves — they seem to have sprung from the ground like so many weeds. Their numbers are growing much faster than we can hope to keep up with, and they have magic and weapons unlike anything we've seen before. But they're small."

"How small?"

"Actually . . ." The taur glanced at Ratchet, then blinked. "About his size. The ears look pretty close too, from the looks of it."

Ratchet blinked, then looked up at Cypress. "You don't think . . .?"

"No. Just . . . no way." Cypress spoke to Ratchet, before turning again to the taur. "These 'Vani', where are they in relation to the site?"

"We don't know. They move with the dunes, but we know they are in that direction . . . " The mathematician spoke, before growing uneasy. "You should go. Now. Between that Jinn-cursed child and the omen he prophesized, I don't think your presence will be welcome much longer."

"But he didn't-!"

"Just go. Please." The taur pleaded. "Before anything else catastrophic happens."

Cypress gave the taur an odd look, but then turned to the sheik. "Perhaps it would be best."

"Then leave, Cyrus of Rilgar." The sheik spoke, before adding on, "Next time I see you, I demand proof of my daughter's survival. My hearts won't accept any less."

With that, Cypress turned and walked out, still holding Ratchet in her arms. Clank followed in short order for a few moments, with Cypress staring at the map before she thrusted it into Clank's hands. "Verify the coordinates."

Clank trotted as he double-checked the calculations. "They appear correct . . . and quite precise, I might add." Clank noted. "I'm impressed."

"It'll take a while to actually find it, though . . . Following the smoke ought to help." Ratchet piped up, shuddering softly.

"No wonder they said to leave quickly, then." Cypress remarked. "Stop trying to curl up, Ratchet. I'll need my arms for more important things soon."

Within a few minutes, Ratchet and Clank were back on Cypress's back, leaving the city. The town was whispering as they left now, ever anxious to see them go, and even the gates didn't seem to waste any time closing on Cypress as she trotted out, turning to set course where the smoke trail would take them.

Rather than the hard gallop Cypress did before, this time she seemed to know she needed to conserve her strength, trotting at a simple, even pace that disturbed the sand as little as necessary. Ratchet spread himself out between the points in Cypress's shoulder blades, looking for a spot in the hem of her outfit where he could secure himself into place and dozily watch.

Cypress recognized the position immediately. "Hey! Clank, make sure he stays awake. I need binocular vision to help find the crash site."

"Can do." The next thing Ratchet knew, he was pounced on by a heavy metal blanket, with Clank taking hold of Ratchet by the head and the rest of Clank's 'adapted' body was covering his. If Ratchet didn't know better on several levels, he would have thrown Clank off no less than ten feet ahead of him along with the usual paranoia in this head, but this time he just accepted it as he kept his eyes forward.

"So . . . we don't find Adari'a at her father's place, but now the guy wants to see the tapes, which we can't show him because the only known copy is on a ship that just crashed into the middle of nowhere. If we try to go back there without Addy or the tapes, the odds are good this guy might kill us over it. Now we have no Addy, no evidence, no backup plans, and no way off this rock." Ratchet finally muttered, keeping his eyes ahead.

Cypress shook her head. "There's always a way off the rock, but it involves going to one of the outposts. That's at least several thousand miles of travel from this part of the planet, except of course for Outpost X9, which is technically only about forty miles from here . . . except that the damn thing is airborne, and unless I magically sprout wings, we're not going to get there."

"Must be where Gangrel was trying to get to." Ratchet blinked, looking up as though he was trying to see it.

"You're not going to spot it from here; The whole post is cloaked from the ground level to avoid local detection." Cypress tacked on. "Crash or ash, if we can't get Gangrel airborne, this whole trip just became a lot more difficult. And we _still_ don't have a clue where Adari'a is."

Ratchet sighed, just keeping his eyes focused on everything directly ahead of him. "I almost don't care anymore . . ."

He felt Cypress buck underneath him. "Well I care, damn it!"

"Losing Gangrel and Al makes the whole thing seem insignificant, though." He spoke, lying on an arm. "I mean, we know that whatever she was taken for, they obviously went to a fair amount of trouble to keep her from being injured . . . so that should mean she's somewhere safe, right?"

"I seem to remember you were looking pretty healthy right up until Jack and Dexter took your head off, too."

Ratchet groaned. "Touché."

"And they could be treating her like the royalty she is for all I care. I at least need to find her, and bring her back."

"What if she likes it better wherever she is?"

"Don't care."

"Then who are we really out here for, having to go check out a crash site that may or may not be vaporizing in the desert right now? Addy's sense of well-being, or yours?"

To this, Cypress scowled, but kept her snout shut as she trekked across more of the Aridian desert, following the plume of smoke. Ratchet just kept his eyes half-open on the horizon, watching intently, while Clank began to go into energy-saving mode while atop of Ratchet.

"14 Degrees, 39 minutes, 24 seconds . . ." Clank droned on, idly noting positions and announcing them in his sleep every few minutes, making an odd click-noise each time he intoned it. "14 Degrees, 39 minutes, 25 seconds . . ."

Ratchet kept time as well as he could, the back of his head noting that they were going to be out here for a lot longer than 39 minutes, before he remembered that it was a coordinate and not a countdown.

_click "14 degrees, 39 minutes, 15 seconds . . ." _

_click "14 degrees, 37 minutes, 54 seconds . . ." _

_click "15 degrees, 5 minutes, 9 seconds . . ."_

Ratchet finally stirred back awake once he heard the latest batch of coordinates. "Woah, Cypress, chill. We're off course too much."

"I know what I'm doing." She managed out, though her actual speech sounded much more slurred. "I'm just thirsty . . ."

Ratchet nodded, then blinked as he remembered where he was. "Clank, how much water did we pack?"

"The travel version of the Hydrodisplacer has a 15 gallon capacity." Clank responded. "It's currently full."

"Good. All right, Cypress, time to take a break." Ratchet spoke up, tugging on Cypress's hair. She stopped, and then proceeded to sit back, causing both Ratchet and Clank to tumble to the desert floor. Ratchet said nothing, shaking his head clear, while Clank struggled to right himself.

Ratchet fumbled for a few more moments as he pulled out the Hydrodisplacer, double-checking the instructions for its 'water bottle' mode. "All right, Cypress, open wide and don't flinch. I'll need to aim this so we don't waste it."

Cypress shook her head, but then Ratchet pulled her jaw down, wincing as he looked down those rows of pointy, sharp teeth. He used the other hand to angle the nozzle in, making sure he had it going right before he let any of the water loose. He could hear her swallowing, but her face seemed oddly dismissive, aside from the random coo of pleasure from her quenched thirst.

Ratchet just sighed, leaning against her a little. No wonder Jigsaw was giving Cypress so much grief about trying to come out here by herself . . . Cypress was desperate. Why she was so adamant about Adari'a, he still wasn't sure, but she was definitely desperate.

"The heck does 'bandwidth limit'-. Damn, that's a gallon already?" Ratchet blinked, looking at the Hydrodisplacer. "You're one seriously thirsty reptile."

"Perhaps she's overheating?" Clank pondered.

Ratchet thought for a moment, then looked back at Cypress. "Cypes, you said your feet were meant for 'shifty ground'... just what sort of habitat is most of Rilgar?"

Cypress blinked for a moment, confused. "Swamp . . ."

"S-? . . . f-! . . . d-.. . . GAH!" Ratchet stammered, walking a few feet before finally managing out the rest. "You're a swamp creature, and you came out here knowing that you were going to a place lacking any water? Are you insane?"

"You came out here."

The next few words came out in an exclamation of utter rage. "Because I'm from Veldin! Fucking Veldin! The only place in the Solana Galaxy where cactus is considered a delicacy to the point that they make sushi out of it instead of using fish, and use the needles for the god-forsaken _chopsticks_! You know what this place is to me? This is an air conditioner moment! This is 'run for the pool' weather! You're the one who's here and finding out that it's your personal seventh level of hell!"

Clank narrowed his eyes. "Get back up here. Now."

"I'm not getting back on this reckless wreck!" Ratchet hissed, furious at his cohort's stubbornness. "Give me one good reason!"

"We're in the middle of hundreds of thousands of square miles of perfectly good reason!" Clank snapped, holding his arms and forepaws out. "Now get back up here and start steering."

"Oh, I'll start steering, all right . . ." Ratchet climbed back on, latching onto Clank's satchel. "Here, wrap this around the both of us and make sure we're not going anywhere. I don't want to get off this girl again if she damn well tries to flip upside down."

"Why?"

"Just do it." Ratchet spoke up, helping Clank thread the satchel around and behind Cypress's arms, forming a pair of seat belts. "All right, now get into place, and make sure we can't shift around too much. Here, get your taur parts under this one, and I'll sit in front, so this goes over my legs . . . Yeah, like that."

Another three minutes ended up spent securing the two of them into place, leaving them snugly set against each other. "We're secured, Ratchet. Now . . . why was this necessary again?"

"One simple reason." Ratchet shrugged, as he encouraged Cypress to keep walking for now. "If we're not going to be able to count on Gangrel for a way out, Cypress is now our best and probably only way to get off this mudball. This effectively makes her our main vehicle for getting the hell out of here. And if we're going to have to use her as a machine, we may as well treat her like one."

Clank managed a look on his face both of confusion and concern. "What does that mean, exactly?"

Ratchet let an evil grin erupt across his face as he produced his ever-present Omniwrench from his inventory. "It means it's time this particular machine got overclocked."

_WHACK!_

Cypress let out a whinny of blistering pain as she tripled her current speed, eyes clenching shut and trying not to cry as she ran, already feeling a welt rising on her right leg where Ratchet struck her.

"Yee-HA!" Ratchet let out, still holding onto Cypress's neck for support, even as her clothing fluttered in the airstreams around her. "You see that, Clank? That's Veldin ingenuity right there!"

"Clank's eyes were wide. "Is it safe?"

"Is anything we do?" Ratchet smirked. "But it's damn well working! Besides, it ought to keep our other 'princess' in line a little longer."

Cypress kept running, even as the pain woke her up and shook her out of her previous daze. "Goddess damn it! You're an asshole, Ratchet!"

"Yeah, well right now I'm the asshole who's keeping you on track! Clank, heading!"

Clank blinked, wrapping his arms around Ratchet for stability. "14 degrees, 36 minutes, 38 seconds."

"You hear that? A few more minutes of this and we'll be back on track in no time!" Ratchet howled. "Now keep running or by the time we get back to Veldin, you'll have bruises the size of my head!"

Cypress snarled, and just like that, she kept going. All along the way, across the desert sands, even as the Zillan pushed herself forward at breakneck speed, Cypress could still be heard as clear as a bell, shouting back, "Fuck you, Ratchet! After this is over, you're gonna be MY bitch, you hear me? MINE!"


	44. Whips, Chains, and Messed Up Brains

**Chapter 44  
Whips, Chains, and Messed-Up Brains**

_When hate pulls the trigger  
The devil comes to take his share  
In the garden of Eden  
The time is running out so fast  
In the heart of the demon  
With no escape our die is cast . . ._

- "Alien Nation" by Scorpions**  
**

* * *

"Crown Prince Tairu . . . so nice to see you again." Jack Archanis spoke in silk-laden tones, taking a deep bow to let his hair cascade with the rest of him. 

The spotted prince smiled, sitting only a few meters away in the modestly-sized throne room. "You are here to offer me something, Half-Foot?"

"Indeed. I bring you a treasure you have long sought after." Jack managed with a purr, waving his arm back to beckon the guards to invite the new 'treasure' in. A veiled taur hopped forward, moving its front legs together and with jerky motions. Its arms were bound behind it, causing the apparent prisoner to move in slow, jerky steps.

Tairu's eyes widened. "It cannot be . . . Half-foot, bring this prisoner to me."

Jack nodded, walking towards the prisoner. "As you wish."

"You son of a bitch!" She hissed, the black hood over her head restricting her view.

The Raver rolled his eyes as he took hold of her collar. "You're hardly the first to insult my mother . . . Now, move!"

Jack grabbed his quarry by the neck, forcefully leading the taur to the prince, before reaching up with his other hand. "May I, your Highness?"

Tairu smiled, his tear-tracks making way for his dark gin while he rubbed his hands and forepaws together. "Most certainly."

Jack grabbed the black hood, yanking it free as Adari'a yanked her head up in sensory shock, her hair bouncing back. The sight of Prince Tairu caused her to try and rear back as well, falling over. The prince couldn't help but laugh at her plight.

"How the mighty have fallen, Princess!" Tairu spoke, still ear to ear. "Tell me, have you reconsidered my 'offer' from so many moons ago?"

"Go feed a Jinn!" She hissed back, still stuck on her side.

"Guards, help our princess regain her footing. I want my bride to be standing when she finally bows to my whims." Tairu motioned, as Adari'a tried desperately to lash back. Two guards tried, and another two came to help them, eventually taking all four of their muscular forms to hold Adari'a in place.

Jack's eyes went slightly wide as he watched Tairu stand, walking on lithe limbs over to the defiant Princess. "Ah, my sweet Adaria . . . so powerful, so forceful, so eminently pitiable. This must be tearing you up inside to find yourself at my mercy."

"I already gave you my answer at DreadZone, Tairu." She snarled, before finding the flat of a blade against her collarbone.

"No, you gave me 'an' answer. You swore up and down that the poof-tail was your betrothed, and yet . . . you are not married, and he is certainly no longer alive." Tairu smiled, turning and stroking Adaria's cheek with his tail. "I believe this is more than enough reason for me to ask my question again. Keep in mind, the only way you'll ever leave this palace again is in a funeral shroud either way . . . so please choose wisely. At least as my wife I will be able to bring you all the pleasures of the outside you could ever ask for."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"So you will be my Queen?"

Adari'a snarled, delayed only momentarily by the cold touch of the sword. "Never."

Jack's eyes went wide. The prince wasn't one to suffer refusal gladly, and he knew that . . . but Adari'a knew she had to be facing certain death to do this. "Prince, a moment please."

"Very well, Half-foot." The prince stepped aside, giving Jack a chance to stand in front of Adari'a.

"Are you out of your _mind_?" Jack hissed, his tail flailing. "This guy is trying to kill you, and you're still refusing him?"

"I have no intentions of giving that man any form of pleasure." Adari'a growled back, even as she felt the flat of the blade pressing in. "Why do you care, anyway? You brought me to this bastard."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Agreeing to marry him, or at least leading him on up to that point, improves your chances of survival beyond the next five minutes. Now I can't force you to agree, but I damn well didn't bring you this far to die on me now."

"I never asked you to 'bring me this far' regardless." Addy snarled, before shouting to the prince. "My answer is still no!"

Prince Tairu, on the other hand, returned her coldness with a shrug. "No matter. You are here, and you are in my domain now. If I cannot procure your hand so that you may refuse my audience, then I will procure your chains so that you may not."

"And what of your guards?" Adari'a spoke, glancing over at the taur holding her at bladepoint.

"Ah, of course. Guards!" Tairu exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Take our Princess and prepare her to become part of my harem. Make sure she is chained down to suit my needs." The prince crept in closer, barely avoiding being bitten by Adari'a in order to trace a hand along the collar already around her neck, its tubing and technology completely alien to him. "And what is this? A trinket from your 'betrothed'?"

"It's a restraint collar, your Highness." Jack finally spoke up again, straightening his stance.

"Ah, good, then she's already halfway there. Guards, take this harlot out of my sight."

Addy cried out, clawing at the ground in defiance as the guards hauled her away. Jack watched her go, feeling a small pang of regret as he realized what he had just gotten her into, but letting the pang drip away after remembering what she managed to do to Dexter's throat. The damage would have killed him in a lower technology environment, and even now he'd be stuck in repairs for a month . . .

"Well done, your Majesty." Jack spoke as the guards and Adari'a disappeared behind the door. "Now that you've dealt with your new acquisition, all that's left now is the matter of payment."

"Ah yes, I did promise a reward, didn't I . . ." Tairu spoke, still standing near the door. "All right, Half-foot. You will receive what you have due."

The doors few open, and eight new guards barged in, past their prince and all with their eyes on the emerald Raver. Suddenly, the situation began to click in a whole new light.

Jack panicked, pulling out an Arbiter. "Nobody move, or the Prince gets-!"

A sword expertly tossed into the barrel of the Arbiter stopped his speech prematurely, exploding one of the rounds inside the device. By the time Jack recovered from the blast, he found himself grabbed in six different places, unable to move.

"So I see death is perhaps too good for you, Half-foot." Tairu spoke, eyes narrow. "Very well, then. I'll make sure you remember what you have done on this day, for the rest of your life . . . however short that may be."

The next thing Jack knew was having his red sash grabbed and used to choke the breath out of him. Jack grabbed for the sash, finding many of the guards' feet on his chest, reducing his air supply. "You bastard . . . when the Empire finds out, you're dead!"

"I believe your Empire has much bigger problems to deal with now. As the Empire of the Tizao has forgotten me, so shall the Vox Empire forget you." Tairu spoke, fingering a metal ring on his person. "Goodbye, Half-foot."

Jack kept fighting, the tightness around his neck and chest sapping away his energy. Despite struggling against the grips of the guards, his vision quickly began to fade to black.

* * *

The eldest Archanis woke up to find himself helpless. Helpless and most likely naked, for that matter, but all he could do was squirm against the hands holding him down still. 

Gagged, blinded, and bound with his own sash, Jack found it harder to struggle against the paws that stripped him down. He clawed out with his feet when he felt someone grab his inventory, and again when they touched his collar . . . at least the collar they left alone once they recognized it as similar to the one he'd placed on Addy. _Well, good. _He thought to himself. _At least I have one way out of this hell-hole later. _

"Should we snip him?" One of the servants asked, grabbing Jack roughly at the base of his tail in a way that made him freeze to the spot. He didn't understand the language, but he KNEW that wasn't right . . .

"Don't bother. Foreign boys can't get anybody here pregnant." Another responded, and Jack relaxed, the tight grip on him loosening. "Just make sure he's clad right. Use the clothing for the littler ones, they'll fit better on him."

Jack found himself being shuffled from strong hand to stronger hand, silken materials bobbling past his skin and random tugs being made at his hair, disorienting him further. Wasn't he being held prisoner here? Did Tairu have bigger plans in mind?

His eyes flew wide as soon as he felt sharp pains in his ears and along his chest, but found himself held tight. His thrashing was rewarded with a another dull thud to the back of his head, and Jack soon made himself still, attempting to ignore the pain.

Eventually he found himself pulled upright, with his hands freed (albeit momentarily) as clothing was pulled onto him, and chains were finally applied to his ankles and wrists. A tugging hand lead him some distance away, making several twists and turns before being dragged into what he sensed was a windowed room, and from there, forced to kneel. Wherever he was, it smelled good.

"Stay here. The blindfold will be removed after we leave."

"Mmph." Jack attempted to respond, stuck in this odd position.He vaguely noted a new chain being added around his neck, weighing him down further.

"We'll get you marked once you survive the night. So long, Foreigner." With this, the hold on Jack was removed, and he found himself tugging at his sash, trying to free his sight.

He pulled the sash down, looked up . . . and saw himself staring into Adari'a's eyes, her snout touching the tip of his nose.

"MRPH!"

"I'm not happy seeing you here, either." Addy snapped, looking down. "What happened to _you_?"

Jack struggled a few more moments, pulling his sash down further. "Apparently Prince Tairu is not meant to be trusted."

"I could have told you THAT long before we ever came to the surface." She snarled, still uncomfortably close to his face. "That still doesn't answer why you look like a girl."

"The hell are you-?" Jack spoke, then blinked as he looked down at his arms, noting the sheer material. He pulled his sash off completely before crawling over to one of the mirrors, eyes wide at the veils and golden cord strewn about his outfit. The chain around his neck prevented him from standing up, but he still stared at himself, with one talon stroking absentmindedly at the new chain earrings that spanned from lobe to tip on each of his ears. "That explains the groping, at least . . ."

"I'm not even going to ask." Adaria rolled her eyes, still apparently stuck on her lounge pillow. Jack looked back to notice that Adari'a was in similar attire, including the multitude of shackles, especially a set that held her wrists and forepaws close together in a simple combination chain.

_I wish I'd thought of that one. _Jack smirked to himself, shaking his head. "I was prepared for betrayal, by all means, 'Princess'. I simply wasn't prepared for them to be nearly so prepared for me."

"And here I thought that book of yours had answers for _every_ sort of situation!" She cocked her head, speaking in a mocking tone.

"If my copy of it hadn't been stripped off of me when I was dropped in here . . ." The Archanis boy responded timidly, as he slowly became more aware that the piercings didn't stop at his ears. It didn't seem important enough to mention, though. "And you're acting too calm, anyway. I thought you'd be trying to kill me by now."

"I just saw you being led here with you gagged, bound, and in women's clothing. Killing you would be doing you a favor at this point." Adari'a spoke, before kicking her hind leg absentmindedly, rattling the chain connected to the wall. "And besides that, I'm apparently unable to move far enough to enjoy it."

Jack nodded, poking at the lock the shackle around his neck. "I suppose this would be a good time to inform you that I pick locks for a hobby, isn't it?"

The centaur raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. "This is supposed to make me trust you?"

"Staying here isn't in either of our best interests." Jack spoke, unlocking the shackle with ease — the keyhole was too large to be any challenge at all. The shackle fell to the ground, with Jack stretching as he stood up. "Tairu's already turning us into his slaves, and I'm pretty sure he intends to rape at least one of us. I'd bet on it being you, but my current outfit's causing me to question that."

"And you care . . . why?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'm not allowed to be concerned about you?"

"You've tried to kill me and my friends in the past. I cannot help but feel you have some other sort of motive for your actions." Addy cocked her head. "Or are you going soft on me already?"

"Don't flatter yourself." Jack snapped, trying to regain a shred of his machismo as stood back up at full poise. "My orders were to turn you in to Crown Prince Tairu for a sizable bounty — 150 grand, as a matter of fact. Tairu has failed to pay me, and has instead attempted to enslave me for my trouble. As it stands, I still consider you my hostage, and thus I am to make sure that you remain as intact and out of harm as reasonably possible so we can find someone more trustworthy to ransom you to later."

Addy frowned. "So you're still thinking business at this point."

"You'll still be glad to know that this means Tairu is my enemy now far more than you are. Now do you want me to help you, or not?"

"Sure. I'm out of any better ideas." She shook her head. "So tell me then, oh wise brat; how do we get out of here? The last time I checked, picking locks is good enough to get us mobile, but not necessarily free." 

Jack smirked, tapping on his own Deadlock collar. "You want to know the real reason I made you put one of these on?"

"So you could blow my head off if I tried something stupid?"

"Besides that." Jack rolled his eyes. "They're tracking devices, remember? Penny and Rose are in orbit nearby; I had them stay aboard in case of something inane like this. They're probably already doing active tracking on me, so once they notice that my position is a little 'too' stationary, they'll come looking. I'd send a distress call if I had my other equipment on me, but for now, it's at least a way out."

Adari'a pondered this, then nodded, a new smirk on her face. "You and your siblings really do think ahead. A shame you're still working for Vox."

"Yeah, well, for right now it's a pointless distinction to make. Once my sisters come by, that'll be a different matter." Jack spoke, wandering over to a nearby barred window. "Until then, all we really 'need' to do is stay put so the error messages on the tracking program start flying."

She turned around, putting an elbow on the window. "So does this rescue attempt involve getting me out of here, too?"

"I'll decide that when they get here." Jack remarked, pointing out the window at a glittery speck in the sky. "Given how much time has passed since we were put in here, that's probably them as we-!"

A flash overtook the air, and suddenly, Adari'a and Jack were watching the window with wide eyes and wider mouths as the speck began to fall, its black contrail nearly invisible from this faraway distance as it made its inevitable path to the ground. Jack's eyes were wide, while Adari'a's eyes merely went level.

She turned to him, unimpressed. "For the love of the Gods, tell me you have another plan."

" . . . Ask me later."

"No, I'd like to ask now while the have plenty of daylight ahead of us."

Jack slumped against the wall, chains in his lap. "Later. I need my will to live intact before I can come up with a reasonable way out."

"I'll give you a will to live, you insufferable-!" Addy lunged for him, but just found herself tangled in her chains, a heap on the floor and with her head wedged over Jack's lap. "Gods damn it, I can't even threaten you right while I'm like this . . ."

Jack could only help but chuckle, even halfheartedly, as he ran a hand in through Adari'a's hair. "Perhaps I'll find a way to make you useful for my escape later after all. After getting both of us in this deep, it's the least I could do."


	45. Facing the Darkness

**Chapter 45  
Facing the Darkness**

_ This is the hand that will blind your eyes and split your spine  
This is the blade that'll visit your flesh and release the wine  
You play with toys that have triggers  
and you hear how the lead moves near  
You play with razors and it hurts, it hurts  
As you face your fears . . ._

- "Cyanide" by Deathstars**  
**

* * *

"I can't see the smoke anymore." 

"Good . . . does this mean I stop getting whipped now?" Cypress hissed, her right leg hopping gingerly with each of its steps.

Ratchet frowned, still looking out towards their heading. "Clank, can you pick up the smoke on infrared?"

Clank narrowed his eyes. "Cypress needs rest. You're running her too hard."

Ratchet gave Clank an incredulous look. "You see a motel anywhere?"

"Here's good . . ." Cypress stopped, falling to the sand in exhaustion. "How many miles has it been so far?"

Clank whirred for a moment, trying to place their position. "We've traversed eighty miles so far today in total. We're about sixty-five from the city we came from."

"Eighty . . . damn. I haven't run like that since college . . ."

Ratchet glared at Cypress, still upset. "Fine, I guess we can stay here."

"Ratchet, I'm not budging." Cypress groaned. "Everything hurts . . ."

"All right, quit whining, we'll-. HEY!" Ratchet scrambled to free himself as Cypress rolled onto her back, one claw over her chest. "God, I already said we'd stop . . . What's with you?"

Clank scrambled out a little faster, before climbing on top of Cypress's chest. Ratchet just shook his head, leaning up against Cypress's flank and adjusting his robes to try and find the best way to make them resemble a blanket.

Clank blinked, his eyes' glow starting to cast light in the budding darkness. "Ratchet, I'm detecting tachycardia."

"Do I look like a doctor?"

Clank narrowed his eyes. "Ratchet, I'm serious. I can't tell you what kind it is without better medical equipment, but her hearts are running entirely too fast, most likely from your 'overclocking'." Clank didn't manage to catch Ratchet's attention until he added on. "You could have killed her by pushing her this far."

Ratchet blinked, then winced. "It worked to start . . ."

"For these sorts of distances, keeping her heartbeat optimal could mean the difference between finding the _Gangrel_ or being left out here to die." Clank intoned. "I know you are concerned about whether or not Al or Gangrel are still alive, but you could have just as easily gotten yourself and Cypress killed too!"

Ratchet winced. "I'm sorry . . ."

Cypress started calming down, head turned to one side to better observe the stars. "Sleep sounds good."

"Please stay awake until your pulses return to normal." Clank spoke up. "We have to make sure you stay alive."

"Sounds nice . . ." Cypress replied, half-there.

"This is spiralling out of control, Clank." Ratchet spoke, crossing his arms. "Gangrel's offline at minimum, Al could be dead or dying as we speak, and we don't even know if we're on the right planet. Just coming out here has been so incredibly dangerous that it's making me wonder if this was their plan all along."

"That we follow a red herring and get ourselves destroyed?"

"Exactly. We had to act so quickly to deal with the situation that we've had our hand forced. And it doesn't even feel like . . . " Ratchet trailed off, losing the words. "Who am I kidding? If I at least FELT like Addy was down here and needing to be rescued in half the sense that Cypress evidently has, I'd worry about Al later and her now. But right now, I don't feel that urgency, I don't feel like we're actually accomplishing anything, and I don't even feel like she's even _on_ this godforsaken planet!"

Cypress sighed, her star-seeking eye glancing out into the heavens. "I do . . ."

_Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Tizao territory . . . _

"All right, princess. I have made a careful analysis of our current cell and surrounding land, at least as well as I can do without spectrum-analysis equipment or other high technology." Jack spoke up, walking over to a wistful-eyed Adari'a, with one of her elbows on the window-ledge.

She glanced back at him. "So, how do we escape this place?"

"There's no good way to pull this off." Jack shook his head. "The chains are easy enough for me to pick, but the problem with technology is that it's only as good or as bad compared to the stuff you're armed with. Since neither of us have our weapons or even communicators, this means that even this primitive cell is fairly effective at keeping us in. The walls and the metal bars blocking our obvious exits are solid and won't give easily."

"So we're stuck?"

"No, but it's almost too risky to get out." Jack frowned. "I don't know the layout of the land, but that bar-gate over there appears to just lead to more of the palace, or it might lead to additional cells. On the other hand, it's also a slim chance of finding my inventory, which we might find useful, but the odds aren't good enough to try it on a whim. This means that our best exit is out that window you're staring out of, except for two things. One, it's a long way down; a little too long for us to land safely, perhaps."

"And the second part?"

"In order to make the hole big enough for at least myself and definitely for you, we'll have to detonate one of the collars." The raver spoke, gritting his teeth. "We need at least one collar active if we expect anyone to find us. Not having my communicator to verify if that was the _Photomancer_ that went down or not, I don't know if my sisters are alive, but even if they're not the collars will still help at least someone from Vox to pinpoint our location. And even if that doesn't work . . . you'll probably be glad to have one collar around your neck if all else fails."

She frowned, her headdress falling with her eyebrows. "You can't seriously be advocating suicide at this point."

"Advocating, no. Suggesting we keep an option open for it, hell yes." Jack sat in a squatting position, hands on his knees. "Always leave an escape plan open. In this case, our other options are dwindling and while I don't know what Tairu has in store for us, we may not want to take that chance otherwise. Until we're sure Tairu's about to kill one of us or otherwise give us something worse than death, we're probably best off staying put."

"The only one Tairu's willing to kill right now is you. He needs me alive, at least for a little while." Adari'a tacked on, glancing out the window. "He's a power hog, plain and simple."

Jack picked his head back up, his ears perking up. "How much do you actually know about him? You didn't say much about him back on DreadZone . . . or at least never said much about it on camera."

The centaur sighed, despondent. "Tairu's family is part of the old House of Amon — a dynasty that ruled the Tizao tribe for over three centuries. The last Sheik of the house was supposedly told by a Jinn of a prophecy that the next Amon male to come of age would destroy his kingdom. The paranoid shiek refused to risk his crown, and so killed each of his sons at birth, leaving only daughters, but his daughters were desperate to bear a male heir and prove their father wrong."

"So Tairu was a product of that 'desperation', I assume." Jack remarked, before remembering in the back of his head how drastically different this planet's culture was.

Adari'a spoke with a small smirk, before continuing. "Tairu should have died, but the Sheik only lasted a few days past Tairu's birth. The ensuing backlash over the throne led to a relatively clean coup; my father was vizier under the Sheik, and so my family took over the royal house, while Tairu, his dowager mother, and his aunts fled to stake claim over a lesser kingdom, still ruled by the Tizao but only in name and tribute."

Jack nodded, the situation beginning to make more and more sense in his head. "So Tairu wants his kingdom back."

"I was born years after my father gained rule." Adari'a tacked on. "My father prized me above all his other daughters; I was the firstborn of his chief wife. My half-brother, Prince Seni'shal, is next in line for the throne, but because of the way our tribal rules work, if I were to marry a prince of another kingdom . . ."

" . . . then all Tairu has to do after that point is kill your father to take back the kingdom. And once he's Sheik, he has no reason to keep you alive either." Jack finished the sentence, frowning. "Was that why you always leaned towards . . . you know . . ." Jack trailed off, making a gesture out of rubbing a thumb and finger together.

"I didn't have much incentive to marry, if that's what you're getting to. But no." Adari'a narrowed her eyes, jealousy within them. "I love my father and my half-brothers as much as any daughter and sister can do. But my desires are my doing, and my doing alone. Even if I did not feel this way about Tairu and even thought he would be a wise ruler for the rest of the Tizao as he is for this kingdom, I cannot accept his offer with an unburdened soul."

He nodded, suddenly made aware of how uncomfortable he felt in this harem clothing. "Why?"

"My soul is for my people. My hearts are for another." Addy answered, before her eyes caught a sliver of light.

Jack's ears perked up yet again, hearing the opening of a heavy oak door. "Quick! Someone's coming!"

The rustling of chains in a rush to put them back on filled the room, as Jack and Addy both scrambled to look like they had been sitting there all day, burdened by their shackles and encumbered by their length. Adari'a reached her neck out again as Jack stretched out to try and look like he had been dosing, with Adari'a's head on his chest.

"I see my new harem girls are starting to get cozy!"

"Go away." Jack hissed at Tairu, with one hand behind Adari'a's neck.

"Now now . . . It's not every day such an important pair of prisoners receives my audience . . . and it's not every day I get my hands on pieces of the wondrous technology of the foreigners." Tairu had an evil grin on his face as he held up a remote. "Now, my aunts fished this off of you . . . it appears to match those collars you wear. How do I use it?"

"Why the hell should I tell you?" Jack spat, eyes narrow.

"Because, my little caged emerald, if you do not tell me, then I will merely have to find out for myself how it works."

Addy's eyes went wide, glaring at Jack. "Tell him."

"No way. You really want him to-?"

"One of those buttons is a detonator. You want that kind of certainty?" Addy snarled, showing her teeth.

"A 'detonator'? My, my, what words you foreigners have for your weapons . . . such elegant ways of killing each other!" Tairu grinned again, holding up the remote. "Tell me, Half-foot, how it works."

Jack sat up, disgust written in the lines of pain on his face. "The remote sends orders to the collars. The top dial allows you to toggle between my collar and the Princess's. The big button will send a painful shock to the wearer of the specified collar."

Tairu looked upon the dial with glee. "Interesting . . . a magical torture device . . ." He pressed the button once, and Adari'a roared, convulsing in pain. "Most wonderful, Half-foot. So then, what does this smaller button under the clear panel do?"

Jack blinked, looking back to Adari'a, seeing her suffering. "I don't want to tell you, Tairu."

"Do it, Half-foot, or I will try _that_ button out on _you_."

The raver gritted his teeth, biting into his hand momentarily before speaking up — it was a bad habit, but this was a worse time. "Pressing that button will destroy the collar and whoever is wearing it. For the love of whatever Deities you believe in, take my word for it. You don't need to test that button."

Tairu flipped up the panel with a clawed thumb, his mischievous eyes and spotted brow eyeing Jack with a devious expression on his face. At the last moment, though, he flipped the panel back down, and Jack nearly fell over in relief.

The Prince's eyes darted over to a servant's. "Toss him the keys for the Princess's chains. I want her to stand again."

Her eyes narrowed, only now coming out of her blinded pain. Jack caught the key being thrown to him, glittering in the air, and then looked to Tairu as though expecting further instruction. With a stern nod, Jack complied, undoing her chains.

She glared at Jack Archanis, eyes narrow. "What's he doing?"

"The same thing every power-hungry sadist does with a new toy . . ." Jack remarked, taking his time on purpose to unlock her chains. In due time, of course, Adari'a was on her feet, glaring at Tairu, who still had the remote in his left hand.

He gave her a gesture, crooning his finger. "Step closer." Adari'a took a timid step forward, in a weak show of defiance. "Closer still, princess. I want your head to fit through the bars."

She walked in slow, deliberate steps, her eyes level with Tairu's as she approached the barred door. "Now what?"

"I said your head _through_ the bars, Princess." Tairu spoke, waiting impatiently. After a moment's glare, Addy gingerly pushed her head through the iron bars, where Tairu's hand was ready to push it down against the wooden edge of the window. "Your hands behind your back as well."

"Get to the point, Tairu." She growled, even as she complied with his orders.

"Well aren't we saucy tonight!" Tairu laughed, reaching over her head with a belt to tie her hands in place, followed by a second belt to better lock Adari'a's head down. "There will be plenty of time for my point later, Princess. That is . . . once you give me your hand in marriage."

Adari'a snarled, flexing against her new bonds. "The same as always, Tairu; Never!"

"Yes, but this time, you'll find it quite hard to argue with my logic . . ."

She roared as another splitting ache of pain coursed through her, her body already weakened once before. When the pain stopped, though, she was back to glaring at the prince. "No, Tairu."

"Perhaps another taste of my new power will suit you, then?"

"Stop it!" Jack spoke up. "Those shocks aren't healthy close together like that!"

"Then my Princess ought to accept my deal quickly, shouldn't she?" The prince spoke again. Adari'a flinched as his head came in closer, the cheetah-esque taur being all too close to her face for her liking. "Become my queen, Princess. My terms are firm but fair; once I am restored to my throne, I assure you that I will give you all that you deserve."

"You said the same thing to me, you a-AH!" Jack cried out, shocked halfway through, and too paralyzed in pain to continue.

"Jack!" Addy spoke up, concern in her voice for the first time.

"Are you ready to be my Queen? Or will you remain my princess-turned-slave?" Tairu spoke up once more. "Accept me tonight, or the next time I ask, both of you will bear the slave's mark as well as a slave's chains . . . And as much as I love you, my dear princess, I will not hesitate to mark you myself!"

For the first time since she had arrived in Tairu's kingdom, Addy hesitated.

"What's the slave's mark?" Jack blinked, confused.

"Tattoo . . . just under the right eye." Addy spoke, grit in her voice.

"I'm still waiting for my answer." Tairu spoke, his eyes narrow. "You WILL serve me, Adari'a Ku'vou, just as your father served my grandfather. You may either serve me as my Queen, or you will serve me as my slave. I want your answer, and I want it now!"

" . . . Fine."

"I want a proper answer, Princess."

She turned her head up, glaring at him. "Yes . . ." She spoke, waiting for the look of utter joy to spread across Tairu's face, as he realized his dreams at last. " . . . _Master_."

Tairu's face fell, and Jack looked as though he was about to faint. The crestfallen look on the Prince's face soon gave way to disapproval, and then to anger. A hard, open-clawed swat hit across Adari'a's face, and she mewled in pain.

"You . . . arrogant, self-serving Succubus! I offer you my bed, my heart, my seat beside my throne . . . and you would rather suffer as a slave in this tiny, worthless whit of a kingdom, than be the Queen of all Tizao!" Tairu bellowed, clutching at her ear. "Do you have ANY idea what you have told me to do to you?"

"At least I have spoken tonight with only the utmost truth, _Master_." She responded. "You have given me a choice, and I have made my selection. Do with it as you will."

"You've also made a full slave out of your new friend, you realize . . ."

"She's her own woman." Jack spat, still sitting on the floor, only half his face showing to the prince.

"Very well, then." Tairu snarled, and then kicked Addy with his hind legs, forcing her head back through the bars, before sending three quick shocks in succession through her, knocking her to the floor. Jack paused, watching the taur twitch and writhe on the floor, her hands still bound.

One thought flashed through his mind as he saw her convulsing there. _You bastard . . . _

"My key. Toss me my key." Tairu commanded, only to dodge the key as Jack threw it at him. "I hope our wench here is glad with her decision. So long . . . slaves."

Jack seethed as he turned to watch the prince go. After a minute's hesitation, he undid his chains once more, crawling carefully over to where Adari'a lain on the floor, gently shaking her to make sure she was still alive. "Adari . . . Adari . . ."

"Jack . . ." She groaned, trying to bury half her face in one arm. "I . . ."

"Shh. Come on." Jack wrapped his arms around her, catching her under the neck and one armpit, trying to pull her back towards the cushioning. "I don't know what you've got up your sleeves for this, Addy, but it damn well better be worth it."

"I couldn't . . ." She whimpered, trying to keep herself from crying. "I _can't_ . . ."

"You don't have to explain. Just get back over there and sleep." Jack spoke, still tugging her along. "This guy creeps me out too. He's way too technology-happy for that to be the first gadget he's come across."

" . . . wha?"

"There's more to this than just wanting to take over the Tizao." He elaborated, even as he quietly removed the collar from around her neck, in case Tairu had any more bright ideas. "Something tells me I need to go and find out what."


	46. 30 Bolts of Silver

**Chapter 46  
30 Bolts of Silver**

_Did you think it wouldn't hurt   
Did you think I wouldn't feel   
When the world came falling down   
Or maybe you didn't think at all   
and that's why I feel what I feel now . . ._

- "Marilyn, my Bitterness" by Cruxshadows

* * *

In the dead of the night, one guard came on to check on the newly valuable 'cell' in the Corridor. Adari'a was asleep, with only one cursory chain on her foot now . . . she must have been dozing, and the chains would need to be placed back on in the morning. Jack's current position, however . . . he was entirely too tense. 

The guard wrinkled his snout. "What're you doing?"

Jack turned his back to the guard, one hand in his lap. "What does it look like I'm doing? Leave me alone."

"You're sweating . . ."

"Yeah, if you were sitting in here with nothing to do and a woman that stacked right next to you, wouldn't you be?" Jack tried to give the guard a sheepish smile, hoping the humor would deflect the situation, and that the guard wouldn't actually come in to see Jack tinkering with his own collar, trying to turn off its shocking effects. "Seriously, I'm just killing time. Nothing to worry yourself with."

"I'll be the judge of that, Half-foot."

Jack blinked, almost afraid to turn around now. "Haven't you hurt Adari'a enough tonight, 'Master'?"

"Come here, Half-foot." Tairu intoned again. "Don't make me use the remote."

Jack slowly stood back up, glancing over at the door with an exhausted look. that came off as more of a sneer. A press later, and he fell to the ground almost immediately, clutching his neck in pain as the guard opened the door, grabbing Jack by the scuff in one hand and Jack's sash in the other.

"Bind him. Like before, but with his hands behind him." Tairu spoke, fingering the remote in one hand, effectively coercing Jack's cooperation. "I don't know how you managed it, Half-foot . . ."

"Then what makes you think I did anything?" Jack spoke, trying to ignore his current vulnerable state, even as he kneeled with his hands behind him.

"Don't give me that." Tairu hissed. "You are going to be a handful for a slave, I can tell. I expect the Princess to be passive enough since she chose this, but you . . . will need special treatment."

Jack glared at the prince, still looking all too vulnerable. " . . . why are you doing this?"

"Because I can."

"I want the real answer." Jack frowned, his eyes level. "No woman's love can be worth this sort of coercion. Your treatment of Adari'a is not just cruel, it's misplaced anger."

"And why, harem slave, would I give you that?"

Jack was about to answer, but instead narrowed his eyes. "Because you're consulting with someone. I don't know what you're up to, but I know it's not your ideas pulling the strings."

"Ah, so you admit your defiance! Wonderful! I must correct this immediately, of course . . ." Tairu hissed, and the guard picked Jack up again, carrying him out of the room and down the hall.

"Just tell me . . ." Jack managed out again, before the trio turned in towards one room.

"In due time." Tairu grinned, the door opening by unseen hands. "Prepare him."

Jack yelped as he was tossed unceremoniously onto a table, on his back. He tried to roll off to one side, but soon found himself held still while a second guard tied Jack down, keeping his knees tied wide open and fixing him to the spot, his tail flicking and his hips in the air. There was a lit candle lamp above his position, making his position all the more frightening to him. A stray breeze in the room chilled the piercings along his body, making him all that more aware that this was a bad place for his body to be.

_No, no . . . damn it . . . _Jack shut his eyes, trying to keep from losing his mind and leaping to the obvious conclusions.

A claw on one thigh shocked him back into reality. "Hello, Jack."

"GET AWAY!" He yelped out instinctively, trying to free himself. "Don't rape me!"

"Don't r-?. . ." The voice spoke, chuckling. "You're serious about this."

"Get away, get away!" Jack shouted out again, his mind getting the better of him, even as he found it hard to move.

"Jack, open your damn eyes."

The raver froze and blinked his eyes open, finally recognizing the voice. "Nate?"

"About time." The lizard spoke, looking down upon his prone quarry. "I must forgive my host's manners, but you know how paranoid these Desert Kings can be."

"Am I glad to see you!" Jack smiled, trying to get back his confidence. "Er, I can explain the outfit . . ."

"No need, Jack. Looks like you're being treated well, though."

"For certain definitions of 'well'." Jack replied, bonking the back of his head against the table. "Look, this entire operation's gone pear-shaped, Nathan. We didn't get paid anything for this mission, and I'm stuck here playing harem boy. I don't know if you can convince Prince Tairu to let the pink princess go since he refuses to actually pay us, but I'd rather grab her and find someplace else to ransom her off — I'm pretty sure she'll lead us to her father's palace, and we know he's loaded. Either way, I've got to get out of here."

"Why?"

"Because if I don't, this asshole prince is about to ink my face and make me his bitch, in almost every way I can think of and probably including the obvious. Why ELSE would I be demanding that I needed to get out of here?" Jack snapped, before the actual meaning of the question hit him. "Why the hell would you even ask why? You're here to negotiate for my release . . . aren't you?"

Nathaniel chuckled, staring down at the prisoner. "Ah, Jack. Simple, naive, evil not-so-genius Jack . . ."

Jack's brain finally caught up with his racing heart. "Shit, _shit_ . . . you son of a bitch! You're leaving me here?"

"I'm not only going to leave you here, Jack; but that was part of the whole damn plan."

The gears quickly ground to a halt. " . . . what?"

Nathaniel grinned, flashing Jack his teeth as the Zillan placed one hand oh-so-uncomfortably close to Jack's tail. "You didn't really think it'd be so simple as a bounty hunt, did you, Jack?"

Jack swallowed hard, shutting his eyes again. "Dahlia told us we just needed to grab any one of the three; Adari'a was the best target because of the proximity and the fact Tairu's bounty was five times bigger than any of the others."

"And the fact we had Tairu's bounty listed in bolts didn't tip you off?"

"I thought it was an estimate on the currency conversion . . ." Jack whimpered, even as he had his eyes clenched shut as he was mentally chastising himself. _You idiot! You fucking idiot! No wonder that spotted bastard was so confident that nobody would come and find you; you'd already been sold up the fucking river! _

"Ah, your first mistake."

"Traitor!" Jack hissed, struggling harder now.

Nathaniel tsked, taking his claws to pick at the newly added belly-button piercing. "Now, really, Jack, who's the traitor here? You let Ratchet and his friends go free, and for what? Because he saved your life?"

"I was honor-bound! I had to!" The Archanis boy rocked his head back again, flexing against the restraints. "Damien already tried to kill me, damn it!"

"And Damien decided to let me orchestrate your demise this time. And I've done a pretty good job so far, if I say so myself." Nathaniel gloated, looking over the harem boy. "You're trapped in a backwards kingdom on a nearly-deserted ball of mud and sand. Your brother's on life support — life support that will be cut very, _very_ quickly once we deal with the rest of you. Penny and Rose? Let's just say they won't be getting off this planet any time soon, either."

Jack coughed, trying to regain his senses. "And what, you expect you'll just whack Maggie? She's back with Dahlia, and-!"

"Dahlia's nothing special. She does what we tell her to, just like you do." Nathaniel smiled. "Hell, Dahlia doesn't even know what I've set up for you. We just had her give the orders because we know you and your spawn-mates actually _trust _her for some absurd reason . . . but hey, once Maggie's on her own, you know what? Yeah, she'll be easy prey. Hell, I'd be shocked if what's left of Jigsaw and her buddies don't manage to do that part of the job for me; she's already taken your sister's leg half off!"

Jack tried to think of something — hell, anything — that he could say, only to come up empty when he realized that his empty chatter would be exactly that. " . . . how could you?"

"Hey, Uncle Gleeman didn't suffer fools gladly, and neither do we. We just had to come up with something a little more sophisticated than a Deadlock Collar to get rid of you guys, though." Nathaniel spoke, grinning madly. "And hey, as a bonus, we've already splintered up those damned 'Divas' for you. Damien's back on Veldin to make sure that the Season Premiere — in, oh, about half an hour from now, according to G-Time — goes exactly as planned, if not better. Hell, he may even have already taken care of Jigsaw and Ratchet for me. It's an incredible plan. Within a matter of 48 hours, we'll have not only eliminated our main thorns in the side, but taken out the trash too."

The slave boy on the table was now breathing hard, unable to speak. Nate was right — brilliantly, completely, tragically right. He'd been prepared for virtually every contingency except this, and it was going to not only ruin his life, but cost his siblings theirs as well.

Daisy might have seen a move this massive coming a mile off. _Might._ But Jack wasn't even 25 and he was already in over his head. The job seemed so simple, so routine, so . . . so ordinary that the notion never even occurred to him.

"What's the matter, Jack? Cat got your tongue, too?" Nate chuckled, laughing over his bound employee. "Don't worry about me; I'll be just fine! We'll report your losses to Dahlia, hire a few goons off of Veldin to replace you, and we'll tell everyone that Dexter had to be taken off life support after we determined that he'd just spend the rest of his life as a vegetable anyway. Nobody will even think twice, and anyone who does . . . well, they'll be on their way out too."

Jack was still breathing hard, unable to calm down. He glanced over at Nate, the sweat evident on his face. ". . . tell me, you didn't happen to have Penny double-check this 'brilliant plan' of yours, did you?"

"Of course not!" Nathan growled. "What's the point of letting her review her own execution?"

Jack snorted, a brief smirk on his face. "Good. That means somewhere in your plan is at least one flaw. And as many people as you're attempting to manipulate with this plan, one of them HAS to see that flaw and exploit it for all it's worth."

"You give your sisters too much credit." Nate glared down at the raver. "The sooner you accept the inevitable, the less it will hurt. Of course, now that you're already cut off from your siblings, I can let you in on all the juicy little details that will no doubt haunt you for the rest of your miserable life as the Prince's muff doll — oh, and good luck trying to get any sympathy out of the princess. You know, the one you turned in to the prince for the reward that never existed in the first place."

The raver shook his head, still hoping that this all was a bad dream. "Why are you telling me all this? Just to gloat?"

"That, and I wanted to make sure that you, of all people, would be able to appreciate all this effort. Who am I going to tell otherwise? The princess?" Nathaniel grinned. "Regardless, within the next few hours, plans should begin to advance very, very swiftly. To make sure that your sisters are taken care of properly, I even persuaded Tairu to send out his finest army to intercept them."

"You're DEAD, Nathan!" Jack shouted out, something snapping inside of him, finally. "I don't know how long it'll take me to get out of here, but when I do, I will hunt you and your brother down, and fucking KILL YOU!"

"That's nice . . ." Nate chuckled, recognizing it as a last show of bravado.

Jack fell back, mentally exhausted as he tried to make sense of just how badly fucked his situation was now._ Whatever the hell they've got in store for Maggie, it can't be as bad as this . . ._

* * *

A rift of sand being blown away in the wake of a craft woke Ratchet and Cypress up, greeting them with hot, fast grit. 

"What was that?" Ratchet jumped up first, catching the back lights of the craft. "A spaceship flying at this level?"

"That's odd . . ." Cypress spoke up, watching it drive away. "I wonder what that was about."

Clank tugged on Ratchet's shoulder. "Initial scans indicate that the ship is the _Photomancer_."

Cypress nodded, scratching her head. "That's Archanis's ship, isn't it?"

"Well, that answers at least one question. Now why was it flying so low? Was it trying to hit us, or-?" Ratchet spoke, then stopped as his ears perked up. "On second thought . . . RUN!"

Ratchet mounted Cypress in a hurry, pulling Clank up with him as Cypress began to bolt. On the horizon, the calm line of the ergs gave away to the jagged lines of the approaching horde, guns blazing and aiming for the Photomancer's hull.

"They're shooting at us!" Cypress whinned, trying to regain her speed.

"No, they're shooting at the ship." Clank spoke, even as Cypress turned her head to look back at the advancing horde.

Ratchet whacked Cypress again with the wrench, tightening his grip on her. "Stop looking back! We have to keep ahead of them!"

"We don't know how long that'll take . . ."

"We're probably at the tail end of this chase. No ship would be staying this low unless it HAD to stay this low. Most likely, it's already damaged. This ship's about to make an emergency landing, and when it does . . ." Ratchet kept his eyes on the _Photomancer_, watching as its emission flames changed color. "We'll need to get inside it and hope these marauders can't follow us."

Cypress focused on the ship as well, nervous. Clank turned his head around from his view of the horde. "Ratchet, the last time I was on that ship, I ended up captured. What if-?"

"We don't have much choice." Ratchet cut him off in a curt tone. "Unless there's something we don't know about this-!"

"YAIII!" Cypress whinned, falling backwards as the ground shook in front of her. The Photomancer had just shuddered into a landing in the sand twenty meters ahead, but something was also disturbing the sand right where Cypress stood.

"Get to that ship!" Ratchet spoke, turning to Clank. "Get them to open the doors for us! We HAVE to get in there!"

"Accessing . . ."

"Come on, Cypress, keep moving, keep going . . ." He spoke, arms wrapped around her neck as she stopped at the ship's hatch. Ratchet banged on the door in desperation, eyes turned to see all too much of the horde. "Let us in! Let us in!"

"Are you mad? NO!" A female voice inside shrieked. "Rose, get our turrets back online! We need to turn and fire!"

"No, turning's how that LAST ship got taken down, too, you idiot!"

"Let us in!" Ratchet pounded on the door again. "There's no time for this!"

"Ratchet, get your weapons out!" Cypress growled, before rearing up to grab a Leviathan Flail out of her inventory. "I'm done running."

Ratchet blinked, then leapt down to pull the Obliterator out of his own inventory as well. "We're not armored enough for a long fight."

"Then the shorter fight will be absolutely brutal to make up for it." Cypress growled, standing her ground, even as she felt it shift under her again in the wake of the horde. "On my mark, five . . . four . . . three . . ."

The ground shifted again, and this time erupted between the ship and the horde, giving way to a creature so huge that the stars above were blotted out. The horde stopped in its tracks, staring up at the massive thing even as it reared out of the sand.

"Holy . . ." Ratchet blinked, watching the horde freeze in front of this new beast. "This is madness."

"This-s is-s the land of Vani!" The snake spoke, her form beginning to slither forward. "Whos-se army dares-s to interfere on my s-soil?"

Ratchet looked like he was about to speak, but Cypress clapped his mouth shut, watching with anxious eyes. Finally, one of the horde stepped forward. "We are of Crown Prince Tairu of the Tizao! We claim this God-Chariot in his name!"

The snake glared down at the apparent leader, then struck, taking the taur in his jaws, shaking the weapons loose from her prey's grip before swallowing him whole. The rest of the horse took a few steps back, in shock.

"I bow to no prince. Go, and tell your prince that if he wants-s this-s chariot and its-s cargo, then he will have to trade dearly for it." The snake spoke again, and in the dim light Ratchet noticed a cobra's hood on the beast. "Leave now, before my men leave none. I am Queen Jinn of the Vani. My word is-s LAW!"

The horder shuffled a few moments before retreating, but the lazer fire from the other side of the ship told otherwise. Chariots and wagons surrounded the land around the ship and the snake, narrowly missing Ratchet, Clank, and Cypress. Cypress hugged her two friends in close, keeping them from being trampled as Ratchet's eyes caught the sight of most of the Vani for the first time.

They were four-footed taurs, like the rest of the creatures of this land, but they were small, their tails were poofed at the ends, and their ears were unmistakable.

"They're Lombaxes . . .?" Ratchet blinked, eyes wide, and catching the attention of some of the new invaders. One taur, a golden lion-maned male, leapt over one of the wagons, landing in front of Ratchet with a pistol in hand.

"Who's in the ship?" He asked roughly, waving the pistol about. "Make them open the hatch!"

"What did you think we were trying to do before you got here?" Ratchet snapped back, before having the pistol aimed down his snout, giving Ratchet a clean view of the taur's tattoo under his eye.

"Make them open the ship before we start asking why you've only got two feet as well." The taur spoke. "Lay down your weapons and surrender. Queen Jinn is far kinder to her prisoners than any Tizao will ever be."

Ratchet paled, keeping quiet as the Chariots and wagons slowly came to a halt, setting up circles around the lot. Cypress turned to see the ship's hatch slowly opening, causing the golden taur to smile, even as he noticed the two Archanis sisters inside were still armed.

"Who's bright idea was-!" Rose yelled out, before blinking, "Holy hell, Ratchet? Cypress? What are you two doing here?"

"We could ask you the same question."

"Lay down your weapons." The Lombax-taur instructed, once again. "Court will be swift."

"Look, I appreciate you guys coming around to save us from that horde and all . . ." Ratchet spoke, still with the pistol entirely too close to his face. " . . . I don't know about those two, but we're trying to find where another one of these 'Chariots' crashed, and-!"

"We have already found the site." The taur spoke. "We will gladly tell you what we know once you yield to our Queen Jinn. But you must surrender first."

"Damn it . . ." Ratchet hissed, dropping his weapon as he went to one knee, with his hands behind his head. Cypress dropped Clank to the ground, and the two of them did the same. After some hesitation, the Archanis sisters followed suit as well, casting worried glances to each other.

The taur smiled, glancing off to see the large snake quickly shrinking down into the throngs of the wagons. "Excellent. Wait here while the Queen readies herself." the taur turned to go, but not before telling two others, "Keep your weapons on them. Make sure they don't do anything foolish."

Ratcher just shook his head, noticing the rifles aimed at him now, before glancing up to Cypress. "Out of one frying pan and into another, I swear . . . you want to know the only thing that's keeping me from losing it right now?"

Cypress rolled her eyes. "Go on."

"Whatever the hell Jigsaw and my parents have gotten themselves into, it has to be going better than this."


	47. Truth and Justice

**Chapter 47  
Truth and Justice **

_ You'll see me again   
In the thunder and rain  
I come crawlin' , I come crawlin'  
I've got eyes everywhere  
From the shadows I stare  
At you darling, my darling . . . _

- "Not the Nicest Guy" by Lordi

* * *

"UGH! Could this look ANY worse?"

"Hush yourself. She's not hurting anything." Another voice spoke, putting his hand on Melody's shoulder. "Besides, Dahlia suggested I get a 'prop' for the backstage scenes regardless . . . she thinks it helps play up the character."

"Yeah? So chain Courtney Gears up there then, at least." Melody remarked, eying the black-furred 'prop' as it sat a few feet in front of her, blindfolded and still. "Having some random loli-Lombax tied up in a locker room is not only going to get some pointed complaints from the Women's Committee if this show goes wrong . . . but I also find it damn creepy."

The Virdian Groom shook his head, and probably would have rolled his eyes if they were visible behind his mask. "You have no problem with taking prisoners and tying Ratchet and company up spread-eagle, but I handcuff one petticoated girl's hands behind a chair— a girl who is so lens-hungry that she _agreed_ to being 'imprisoned', unlike that lot — and you find that creepy."

Magnolia Archanis just glared at the groom, before walking past him and inspecting the dolled-up prisoner, taking careful steps around her. "That was business. This is just fetish."

The lolita couldn't help but giggle, only pausing in her careful laughter each time Magnolia poked at her sides, shaking gingerly and swishing her tail in a show of delight. Magnolia stood back up, frowning and pointing to the girl's criss-crossed blindfold. "What's with this, then?"

"Her request, actually." The groom shrugged.

Maggie rolled her eyes, holding her face. "I know what the allusion is supposed to be, but I still think it's sick."

"Now please, Miss Archanis, calm down." Viridian smirked, hugging her shoulders from behind. "Everything is going great. We've got plenty of volunteers, the staff is absolutely psyched, and best of all, we've had no interference thrown at us to far. Your fears that Ratchet and his friends would try to ruin this show are so far unfounded."

"We still have 30 minutes to showtime." She glared at him as best she could. "Maybe you're used to your plans never going wrong, but I always expect something to."

"Perhaps you're simply never been smart enough before to account for everything that could go wrong in advance?"

Maggie growled, yanking on Viridian's ears. "The next time you insult my intelligence, you won't get away with it!"

"Very well. But if you'll remember right, even your mother managed to slip up at least once in her life." Viridian spoke, getting a cold nod out of her. "Rest assured, I know how Daisy worked well enough to see the same in you."

She winced, nervous. "I'm just . . . I'm not used to working alone like this."

"You're doing fine. And even if something does go wrong, I'm here, remember? You've known me since your teeth first fell out." Viridan held her close, giving the girl a peck on the cheek. "You're like a daughter to me. I won't let anything go wrong tonight, I promise."

She gave a light sigh, smiling. "All right, V. You win for now."

The cuffed Lolita cooed, tail twitching happily once again, as her lips gave way to a fanged smile, grinning to herself as she soaked in the information. _Nothing necessarily 'has' to go wrong for it to be a total disaster . . . _

_Earlier that day . . ._

"Why won't you tell me where you got your abilities from?" Lovelace spoke, this time a little more pointed than before, as the four Lombaxes sped across Veldin's surface in a small hovercraft.

Jigsaw rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Because I just don't tell people."

"But you already know about me! I've never had anyone test my mental shielding like that!" She shot back, leaning into her seat. "And I'd prefer you not try it again . . ."

"Hey, you think I was going to let go of a challenge like that?" Jigsaw smirked, before noticing a hand on her shoulder.

She turned to see Clockwork giving her a look. "Leave the 'inappropriate actions with my wife' to me next time, okay?"

Miss Forte rolled her eyes. "It's not 'inapp-'. Look, it's just mind-reading. And it's not even a deep-scan; minds don't work like that. Here, I'll try a little of it now. Think of a number between . . . oh, one and ten."

"All right . . ." Clockwork blinked, somewhat confused. _Four?_

"See, there we go, it's four." She remarked, driving past a dune. "Now that was the simplest application of what I can do; you thought it only a few seconds ago, so it was the first thing on your mind — the 'tip of your tongue', so to speak. The more time that's elapsed from you thinking something and when I try to pick it out of you, the harder it is for me to get it out. However, if I manipulate your emotions to draw an old memory out of your head . . . say, if I've somehow tricked you into thinking about the time when your mother dressed you in something hideously embarrassing . . ."

Just then, she laughed, panicking the other three members of the hovercraft. Dimitri freaked out, leaping for the driver's seat, but Jigsaw remained in control.

" . . . as I was saying — nice sailor suit, by the way — if I can get you to think about whatever it is I'm trying to get out of your head, and thereby make you bring that old memory to the surface, then suddenly I'm able to get memories that would otherwise be repressed."

Clockwork nodded, almost pretending to understand. "Clever . . ."

"On top of this, the mood of a person limits what sort of memories I can get a hold of; if you're deliriously happy, you're not going to have your worst fears on your mind. So if you're nostalgic, I pick up childhood moments; if you're horny, I get mental images of the last time you-. Well, you get the idea. Whatever mood you're in, I draw up memories and associations tied in with that mood."

Lovelace blinked, pondering this for a moment. "So how does that make me difficult?"

"Most people's minds are layered like onions; you have the top layer of their most recent thoughts, and then you have what they thought an hour ago, that morning, yesterday, a week ago . . . and so on." Jigsaw shook her head. "Your mind, on the other hand, is like a cast-iron pot full of onions, with the lid riveted onto the cauldron, and that cauldron's been thrown into a sea with about a dozen other cauldrons, but they're actually the 'onions' of an even bigger cauldron!"

"That reminds me, when do we eat?" Clockwork chirped up, piqued, before leaning over towards Dimitri, forgetting for a moment that Dimitri couldn't hear. "Your friend's very interesting . . ."

_How much longer until we arrive?_ Dimitri leaned forward, an odd look on his face.

"We're almost to Third Jerusalem, Dimitri. We'll be there in a few more minutes." Jigsaw shot back.

Ratchet's mother blinked, shocked. "You can understand him?"

"Same way I read minds. And no, he doesn't 'hear' me, but when I talk he still receives the message telepathically. You receive it too, but because you already hear me, it means nothing."

She blinked. "So . . . you can actually talk to him . . . normally . . . and he'll respond?"

"Yeah, I just said that." Jigsaw smirked at Lovelace. "Actually, his mind reminds me a little of yours . . . but his is still doable, just organized a little differently. Yours is complicated. I'm not sure if it's because of your own abilities and so it's some sort of psychic shielding, or your own trauma has actually caused your mind to develop and evolve into a whole new arrangement . . . I've not dealt with enough people to know."

"Which leads me to a few questions of my own, 'Protectorate'." Lovelace leaned back in her seat. "What were your parents like?"

Jigsaw rolled her eyes. "My mother's an acrobat now. She didn't used to be, but that was before I was born. She doesn't perform in public much."

"Interesting . . . I don't suppose we'll see her tonight?"

"I'd highly doubt it." Jigsaw kept her hands on the steering, gripping it tightly. Ratchet's mother picked up on the cue all too well.

She lowered her eyes as she asked Jigsaw the next question. "And your father?"

"Well, look at that! We're here!" Jigsaw lit up at the sign, looking for somewhere to park, avoiding the question entirely. Lovelace frowned, but said nothing, just looking at the passersby . . . and then blinking.

Even Clockwork seemed to notice something was already amiss. "Is it me, or is there a lot more gloom in this town than normal?"

Jigsaw glanced out, noting several Lombaxes walking by with dyed fur, pitch-black clothing, and enough piercings and chains to outfit a small prison. "Wow . . . I thought Third Jerusalem was a religious city, but not like that."

"It looks like the city's turned absolutely Gothic for this 'carnival'... we must be close." Lovelace remarked, standing up. "Let's follow them."

"Looking like this? I don't think so." Jigsaw stood up herself, glancing down. "Even if I wasn't already noticeable enough by myself, we'll stick out even more in this crowd. You and Clockwork would have a better chance blending in."

"Oh, I think I can fix that..." Lovelace winked, walking over towards a nearby alley. "Follow me?"

"As a rule of principle, I typically don't follow unstable women into dark alleys . . . in your case, I'll make an exception." Jigsaw remarked, helping Dimitri and Clockwork out of the hovercraft. "What's on your mind?"

Without another word, they walked down, hiding behind a nearby dumpster, ducking out of sight of the crowd and any other prying eyes, before Lovelace pulled a large medallion out from under her collared shirt. "Everyone huddle close; I only want to do this once!"

Dimitri gave Jigsaw an odd glance, but the vampire leaned in to look at the large, gleaming star gem on the medallion, and Clockwork leaned in as well. Dimitri hesitated for just a moment, but then leaned in as Lovelace traced out a symbol on the back of the medallion . . . and then the gem lit up with intensely bright light.

Jigsaw hissed, holding her eyes shut in pain. She brought her hands up to hide her face, unable to see the glittering transformations and transfigurations of the group's fur and clothing; Dimitri blinked in awe, but as usual, said nothing.

A minute later, Lovelace smirked, now with her eyes momentarily hidden behind voluminous bangs of gray while her hair was done up in tight sausage-thick curls, her fur now a pale, ghostly white. Dimitri's silver ear-cuffs were gone, in favor of a series of small ring piercings going up each ear, chiming with each other, his fur a dark black; and just like them, Jigsaw and Clockwork were now also monochrome beaus, ready to blend in with the death-lovers and the lolitas. Or at least Jigsaw would've been ready if she still wasn't holding her face.

"J- . . . er, 'Jasmine'?" Lovelace spoke, shaking Jigsaw's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

The reply was swift and curt. "No."

"What's wrong? Did the transformation miss a spot?"

"On the contrary . . . your stupid scout device BLINDED me!" Jigsaw growled, leaping up to pin her against the wall, but missing. "And before you say anything; no, nano can't heal it. It's sun damage."

"I don't understand . . ."

"Sunlight causes a very special type of injury to my eyes. The only way to heal the damaged area is to cut away the affected tissue and regrow it." Jigsaw growled, glaring as best she could. "And while blood-dripping eyes might help me here, that's a little beside the point . . ."

"I . . . ew . . ." She winced, then blinked. "You're not quite moving like you're blind, though . . ."

"Not for now, at least." Jigsaw sighed, seeing herself holding Lovelace to the wall, and then letting her stand back up on her own, reaching out for Dimitri's shoulder. "Looks like we've got something in common for today then."

"Well . . . as long as it doesn't affect you, we can deal with it for now." Lovelace smirked, taking Clockwork's hand. "Let's head on to see what this _Cirque du Mortis_ is all about then, shall we?"

They left the alleyway to join the crowds, with Jigsaw's mind pawing out for every pair of eyeballs she could get her neurons on. The crowds were most definitely headed towards the same place . . . and thankfully, she only looked like a nervous Lolita clinging too tightly to her boyfriend. Perhaps between her and Dimitri, the two would blend in perfectly after all.

The crowds quickly went from the streets of Third Jerusalem and over a bridge to enter the _Carnival Mortis_; the rides immediately caught Jigsaw's attention, dwarfing the signs and banners for the Cirque du Mortis, as scary and foreboding as they were.

"I'll give them points for the spook factor, but it'll take more than spooky to convince me." Jigsaw spoke up, glancing over at a roller coaster that twisted above them. "Don't you think so too, D?"

Jigsaw's mind sat in mild silence waiting for an answer. "Dimitri?"

She twigged it, looking around mentally in a panic — Dimitri's mind was gone to her, amid the sea of consciousness she was swimming in. This place was too crowded to try calling out to him mentally; and Lovelace and Clockwork weren't anywhere to be seen, either. She'd forgotten to commit them into her visual memory, and without that, everyone else in this place blended in.

"Dimitri!" She called out, hoping only to attract 'just enough' attention, still scanning the crowds as she moved half-blind around the space. Even just depending on the crowd's view worked until she found herself split from the crowd, stuck down a corridor of the carnival that wasn't in the crowd's image.

_Great . . . I walked into a holographic entrance. _She mumbled mentally, now fully blind and feeling her way along the corridor.

"Is anyone there?" She spoke, hoping to at least get a mental answer of some piqued interest. A minute passed without answer, and so she pushed on further, a hand against the wall as she walked. Even as she trod down the halls and felt it change from dirt to metal, she chastised herself — she had to be in the deepest of any of her group, and here she couldn't even _see_ a damn thing!

Which, of course, is why she ought to have expected that the next time she reached out for the wall to lean against it, she miscalculated and fell over.

She yelped, falling over arm-first onto the metal, then laying there for a few moments. Soon enough, however, laying gave to sitting, sitting gave to testing her arm to see if she'd hurt it, and then finding out that it was broken gave to scooting herself against the wall, trying NOT to look like she was about to cry as she tried to figure out what to do about this.

A mental sweep revealed nothing yet again, so she tried nibbling at her wrist. A few moments of this, and she stopped, realizing that licking her fresh gnawing clean away wasn't even working.

_Almost all of me was exposed to that blasted device . . . _She mused, leaning back against the wall. _So it's not just my eyes acting up. Every bit of damage I'm taking now is aggravated and refusing to heal. Which means I'm currently sitting here with my eyes burned blind and a busted wrist . . . and any form of combat is out of the question in this condition. One good laser blast and I'm probably done for._

She sighed, stuck against a wall and not wanting to move any further, having already injured herself so quickly. _I need to find someone soon . . . even the enemy likely won't know it's me, with being this weak._

"You! Stop!"

"I already am." She snapped in the direction she thought the voice came from, still holding her wrist. She then blinked as the person who'd spotted her ran into view, and she turned to them with a grin on her face. "Am I glad to see you!"

"What are you doing here?" The voice snapped again, grabbing her by her injured wrist.

Jigsaw yelped again in pain. "What's wro-? Oh, yeah . . ."

"Yeah. This area is employees only. I'll need to take you to the chief of-."

"No, not that." She spoke sheepishly, trying to stand a little taller; she wouldn't be able to speak normally to him, least of all while she looked like this. _Hi, Dad._


	48. Love, Luck, and Little White Lies

**Chapter 48  
Love, Luck, and Little White Lies**

_Caught the mother jack knifin'  
A little bit low lifin'  
Goin' twenty paces with the medicine man  
Runnin' from the girl in pigskin  
A little gun shy but shootin' . . ._

— "Medicine Jar" by Skid Row

* * *

Jigsaw could only see herself freezing in front of her father's sight for a few moments, watching through his eyes and hoping that he would believe her. She could sense him quaking in anger, his mind racing at a calculatory speed she'd never managed in herself, before he finally started pushing her back towards the exit.

Daughters being afraid of upsetting their fathers is almost as time-honored of a tradition as daughters upsetting their fathers in the first place, but when your father also happens to be a potent supervillain by the name of the Viridian Groom, you tend to appreciate when they're in a good mood.

"I'll take you to first aid." He spoke, prodding her along. _You are SO damned lucky I'm in civilian's clothing!_

_I know._ She winced, gingerly hopping ahead. "Not so rough, please."

_The hell is wrong with you? You're acting even worse than you did the last time you were home . . ._

_Well pardon me for going blind!_ She hissed back, stepping gingerly. _This mission's already gone horribly enough so far for me without you telling me as much. _

_What m-? Shit . . ._ He frowned, grabbing her by her good hand and leading her along. "Listen, Miss; you're really not supposed to be here, and I don't know how long you've been in here. I'll buy you lunch if you promise to cooperate and tell me what you've been doing down here, okay?"

"Okay . . ." She spoke, still concerned. _I need to ask, are you-?_

_Yes._

She winced, walking as her father dragged her along and out into the crowd. Most of the older set were taken aback to see a green-masked Lombax cutting through the ground in civilian gear, but the rest just trotted along as the two made their way to a local medic's station.

"This girl seems to have sprained her wrist." He spoke up to the attendant, pushing Jigsaw forward again. "Handle it. I'll stay with her in the meantime."

"Yessir, Mr. Groom!" The medic darted in for the back room in shock, while Jigsaw sat down.

_Thanks . . ._ Jigsaw sighed, leaning back a little.

_What were you doing in there?_ Her father narrowed her eyes, clearly in two minds at the moment — one mind focused on appearing as aloof and 'professional' as his job called for, and the other on speaking with his daughter. The fact that she didn't look like herself probably helped matters, but only a little.

_I didn't mean to head down there . . . No, really!_ She frowned, noting the disbelief. _I'm supposed to be undercover right now — something went wrong with the disguise, though. I'm not sure what happened, but I appear to be blind and very much, well . . . brittle._

Viridian raised an eyebrow. _Does this have something to do with your 'special' skills? _

_Maybe . . . probably . . . yes._ She winced, holding out her injured arm again.

The groom looked over it, before taking some of the nanosalve from the medic and dressing the wounds himself. _You're making a lot of mistakes here._

_Do you have to rub it in?_

_Only if it helps you remember next time._ He shook his head, rubbing the salve in on her wrist. _You shouldn't be going undercover anymore. You're the protectorate, for God's sake! This is no longer your job! _

_I was retraining an old agent. _She rolled her eyes. _I know this is bad practice; I'm running short on special forces right now._

_That's not the point. You promised me two things when you accepted to become Protectorate; that you'd stop running around trying to get yourself killed on a regular basis, and that you'd go out of your way to stay out of mine. _He shrugged, checking his work. _Really, you only need to worry about the first one. And on that note — if you needed an undercover agent to check out Vox for you, why didn't you just ask me?_

_Because I thought you hated Vox too much to pull it off!_ Jigsaw snapped back, almost angry at her father for being there in the first place. After all the grief he'd given her about going to DreadZone to begin with, after seeing everything that it had done to her, how could he of all people be able to swallow his pride to work for them?

_And I still do; this is spec work for an old friend of mine._ He rolled his eyes, helping her up after appearing satisfied with his work. With a brief gesture, she walked out only a few steps ahead of him, cautious.

Once they were outside of the medic's ears, Jigsaw finally spoke again. "I really wish you'd told me all of this prior to my efforts. I could have saved myself a lot of trouble."

"Children seldom learn from the wisdom of their parents." He spoke, gritting his teeth slightly. "Now, about that lunch . . . let's go over here. I know this great little booth in the back — nobody'll overhear us."

"About time . . ." Jigsaw managed, following her father into the small restaurant.

_One seating and two entrees later . . ._

"All right, I can understand the whole need for paranoia here, but for God's sake, I have a lot more to worry about here than you do."

"And I suppose people thinking I have any connections to law enforcement is any better for my job?" He snapped back, prodding at the chip basket. "Seriously, if people discover you have a conflict of interest, you only get your name dragged through the mud. People get shot in my line of work for that kind of carelessness."

She shook her head. "Wouldn't be your first time."

"Seriously, Puzzle . . . How much would I have to twist your arm to get you to, you know . . ."

"I'm not resigning. I'm on a hideously large case here." Jigsaw groaned. "I can't give you all the details because I'm not even sure where your involvement in this lies, if you even are involved . . . but I can tell you that it wouldn't surprise me."

He raised an eyebrow. "This have anything to do with your 'new friends'?"

"Sort of." She shrugged. "I think somebody's finally paying attention to Ratchet's work and trying to find out if the rest of the Lombaxes are just as useful as he is."

Viridian nodded, then made a slight face. "You have to know more than that."

"Well, that's why I'm here. The case has been entirely too cold for the past month, and I know that the efforts I've made so far can't have stopped whatever this is — this is Vox we're talking about, for God's sake. They never give up when they've got a plan in store."

"Exploding a space station does wonders for that, though . . ."

"I'm not buying it." She frowned. "If Dahlia, Damien, Nate, any of them were on the level, they wouldn't be hiding like this. They're up to at least something, and it's not the latest headlines. You forget, I have first-hand knowledge of how big that corporation is. They have weapons development, special forces, blitz deployment . . . they're still a rogue state to me. Yes, Ratchet's previous work crippled it. But he didn't kill it enough to satisfy me."

Viridian sighed. "You really think this is that serious?"

"Either the Vox Empire is going to incredible lengths to cover their tracks, or they're doing this all on purpose to try and get me to mess up and kill myself. I refuse to believe I'm so important to these people that I'm worth all this trouble."

He nodded, lost in thought. "I hate to have to do this, but . . . how much help do you need?" He shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "I've got to admit, I've seen Dahlia up close lately, and . . . her paranoia's getting to even me. I can understand a little eccentricity, but this is a bit much. Actually shaking her up might do her some good."

"I'm not in any condition to go in guns blazing; I just need some simple detective work. I'm not sure what I'm looking for, but I get this feeling that all I need is just one . . . more . . ." Jigsaw spoke, finding it hard to finish her sentence.

Viridian blinked. "You okay?"

"Just one more . . . clue . . ." She winced again, a hand going to her chest. "Goddamn it, not this again . . ."

"What's wrong?" Viridian jerked to standing, eyes wide.

"Sit back . . . down, it'll go away in a . . . minute . . ." She managed out, breathing hard. _I know what's happening here; it's a heart attack._

_At YOUR age?_ He winced, gritting her teeth. _I told you drinking all that blood couldn't be healthy._

_Har har._ She frowned. _No, that's the only reason I'm still conscious, let alone alive right now. I know what's happening here and why it isn't working. She's here._

"Who?"

"An old enemy I made on the side back at . . . my old employer." She spoke, teeth still clenched. "I didn't deal with her back then because, well . . . she wasn't a real employee, and to make matters worse, she was only eight years old back then."

Viridian shook his head. "First mistake . . .."

"I don't feel good about whacking little kids!" She hissed back.

He rolled his eyes, relaxing once he saw his daughter regaining her composure. "So how, exactly, does an eight-year-old give you heart attacks? Is she using some sort of voodoo doll?"

Jigsaw snarled, still in anger. "She's a Reaper."

"You're kidding me . . ." The groom stood up, pulling Jigsaw from her seat. "That clinches it. There's more to tonight's performance than just putting on a show; there's no reason a girl like that should be anywhere near here and pulling this unless they're expecting to get somebody killed."

"Don't tell me . . . you didn't give them your-?"

_The only people who know and who SHOULD know my true identity are either directly related to me or corpses by now._ He snarled, keeping his grip on her. _Come with me. I've got a job for you that even in your weakened state you should be able to handle . . ._

_Back out of Memory Lane . . ._

_This is the easiest job ever!_ Jigsaw chuckled, sitting there. _All I have to do is look pretty and read minds, and then afterwards I meet up with the others. And since I'm already backstage, I'm in the best position to find out what's going on from here._

_Glad to see you upbeat for a change._ Viridian smirked. "Come on, Maggie; let's leave the loli here. I could use a little something for a snack before the big show."

"Sure thing; anything away from your 'prop' suits me just fine." Maggie remarked, stepping back out into the hallway as the Viridian Groom locked his door. "I still don't like you using her."

"It's just for show. Damsels in distress are practically a running gag with me." He shrugged, adjusting his gauntlet. "If it bothers you, then relax. She'll only be here for this episode."

Maggie returned his nonchalance with a grimace. "You're also meant to be proving to us that you're worth hiring for more episodes in the season. You're only here because I trust my mother's credentials — and suffice to say, they're a bit dated."

"You think I've changed?" Viridian snorted. "You should see my wife!"

This managed a chuckle out of the Hobbit, who now made her way over to a buffet table, leaning against it. "You've made your point, V. And truth be told, I know you have a head for good holovision. I'm just concerned that certain . . . people might try interfering, and while I certainly trust you to work to the best of your ability should the need arise, I want to make sure that you don't have an allegiance to Veldin that might . . . conflict with this matter."

He frowned, pulling out his crossbow as a tangible warning. "I know that the last time I heard language like that, shit was getting ready to hit the fan. Is there something more going on tonight than just a show?"

"Please." She rolled her eyes. "We're not doing anything tonight, and certainly not on Veldin — my God, man, except for the ability to say that we pulled off something extraordinary right under Ratchet's nose, what would be the point?"

"There's always a point."

Maggie smirked. "Fair enough. Okay, we're not trying anything 'big'. Certainly nothing that any of the viewers will find out about." Maggie smiled, pulling a small barette out of her jacket, holding it up in the light between two fingers. "We're doing some test runs with this new gadget of ours. Every goth, punk, freak, and general goomba we've selected to play in tonight's show will be wearing one of these during the broadcast. If we're successful . . . let's just say we'll be taking these into mass production."

Viridian held a hand out, nervous. "Is this the sort of gadget I _want _to be wearing?"

"Experimenting on yourself is so passé, not to mention a blatant violation of Rule 77." Maggie shrugged, handing him the barette. "Your friend, however . . . feel free to let her try that out. After R&D evaluates the data from tonight, I'll let you know if they're safe or not."

"I'll consider it." Viridian sighed, pocketing the trinket. "Is that all?"

"That's all I'm aware of as far as anything even remotely close to a 'nefarious plot' is concerned. And really, this is a back-burner project anyway from what I can tell." She shrugged. "Our main objective tonight is to put on a good show and make it so we can keep using it as a cover and excuse to travel the galaxy. For once, it's honest work."

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "Honesty is not a word I'd use for this company, given recent events."

"Honest enough, then." She narrowed her eyes. "Come on, we're paying you to put up with us — lighten up a little."

The elder Forte shook his head. "All right then. On that thought, I hate to be a wet blanket here, but . . ."

"Go on."

"I'm picking up this general sense that something's amiss — I know you're going for this whole 'gothic' theme with your show, but I'm worried our little death-obsessed crowd might also be the perfect audience for other elements to blend in with . . ." He winced. ". . . you know, like Reapers."

She blinked. "Are you serious?"

"It's possible." He shrugged. "Certainly likely."

Maggie winced herself, then made a small shrug. "Mom never did like Reapers, I'll give you that. But . . . aside from acknowledging that there might be a few, what difference does it make? They're almost impossible to detect, and short of cuffing everyone's hands behind them, there's not a lot we can do to protect against some idiot in the audience playing God."

"But there must be some sort of protection we can make against-!"

"Only the most inexperienced Reaper would even try anything during the broadcast — it'd be so obvious, the entire carnival would grind to a halt as soon as it occurred just to hunt the idiot down!" Maggie shook her head. "Aside from possibly being a ratings kill, there's no reason we would even consider it a high priority, in terms of damage or in probability."

"You can't be serious!" He shot back. "People could die, and you don't think preventing that's a priority?"

"Weren't you supposed to be evil the last time I checked?"

"That doesn't mean I want anyone to actually get killed!" He snarled. "We have a responsibility to these people, damn it!"

She shook her head. "Ah, so Mom's analysis was right about you. You _are_ paranoid like that!"

"You promised me this wasn't going to turn into another DreadZone!" He snapped again, furious. "How am I supposed to trust you people now?"

"It's a minute chance, Viridian, and one that we've already prepared for under the same category as suiciders and armed psychopaths. Rest assured, if we find a Reaper, you'll know it the instant the bodies hit the floor — pun intended."

Viridian groaned, grabbing a bagel as he turned to leave. "You're an idiot."

"Now hold on here!" She snapped back. "I'm not discounting your concerns, but the thought of random Reapers is just a fact of life. We can't very well live in fear of Reapers, or any other type of Dead Inside for that matter, until we have evidence of one."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "And who the hell said I was worried about a _random_ Reaper?"

Maggie's eyebrows nearly flew off her face. "Have you lost it, man? The last idiot in this company to hire a Reaper was Vox himself, and you can damn well bet he never told us who it was. They certainly don't WORK for us anymore, at any rate!"

"That doesn't make me feel better . . ."

"You know as well as I do that a Reaper's worst enemy is information on their own identity." Maggie gave him a look, grabbing him by the arm. "I don't know any Reapers, and I certainly don't work with any. And believe me — lying to you about this does me no good whatsoever."


	49. A Whole New World

**Chapter 49  
A Whole New World**

_ A siren from the deep came to me  
Sang my name, my longing  
Still I write my songs about that dream of mine  
Worth everything I may ever be . . ._

- "Ghost Love Score" by Nightwish

* * *

Ratchet blinked at the handcuff around his wrist, and then at its immense length — nearly two meters long — until it terminated on the wrist of the tattooed taur that held him at gunpoint earlier. The Lombax held his part of the chain up, confused. "I don't understand." 

"We are not a people who enjoy standing still." The taur smirked, looking backwards to see some of the others struggling with how to cuff Cypress; None of the others were quite so huge. "These chains are the extent you will be 'imprisoned' while you are among us. You are free to go as you please, as long as your chained guard is with you, and as long as you yield back to us when we must protect ourselves and for court."

Penny's eyes went wide. "No heavy shackles? No cells?"

"We feel the weight of every item we carry. We cannot afford such extravagance; even the Queen Jinn's wagon, as wondrous as she herself is, carries little."

"Go with it." Rose rolled her eyes, whispering in her sister's ear. "It can't be this easy."

"Court-Fire is starting!" Ratchet's guard spoke again, leading the Lombax along.

In the center of the reassembled wagon-city, where the 'Queen Jinn's snake form had held the difference between the Photomancer and the advancing troops, people were beginning to congregate and sit. A bonfire began to form, and as Ratchet looked around, he noticed that one wagon jutted out a little, with slightly fancier curtains than the rest. He made note of it, but his captor had a point — it was only a 'little' fancier, and not the extravagance he saw back in the city.

"You four stand here." The guard spoke, holding Ratchet by the shoulder. "But make sure the giant sits."

Cypress blinked before doing as she was told, quickly becoming cautious. Clank hopped up to sit in her lap, which seemed to calm her down, at least a little.

Once people quieted themselves, a form started to slink out of the Queen's wagon, taking careful, dainty steps. Aside from the white capelets and veils that kept her decent, she looked like any of the other taurs in the troop. What little gold she wore came in thin strands, and it was clear that whoever this woman was, she wasn't a Queen who held herself much higher than her people, aside from the whole 'look at me, I can turn into a _giant snake_' detail.

"Welcome, foreigners." She purred, hands held together in delight. "It's so rare that we are 'graced' with your company. Take heart in the knowledge that we have no intentions to harm you. Prove your worth to us, and we will prove ours to you, for we are all foreigners in this land together."

The crowd murmured their agreement, and Ratchet took the opportunity to step forward. "What are you doing with us?"

"We seek to embrace you all as brethren in our midst. My people come from all tribes, and as they have all shown us what they can give my people, they have _become_ my people."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "I don't see a lot of difference in the crowd."

"This is because of my great magic." The Queen smiled, stepping forward. "Come closer, gypsy of Veldin, and taste my power."

_She knows about Veldin?_ Ratchet blinked, holding himself still as the Queen's fingers traced past his cheek. Ratchet turned towards the Queen next, presumably to swat her away, but then fell forwards, clutching his stomach.

"Ratchet!" Clank yelped out, running for him but eventually running out of chain, falling back into the sand.

"Oh, _God_ . . ." Ratchet managed out, trying desperately to hold back the kicking sensation in his stomach.

He lurched forward, rolling onto his back in the sand and curling into the fetal position. His eyes flew up towards the sky, his head losing its grasp on apparent sanity — the odd sensations his head was starting to take in could only be described as an unexpected, almost drug-like high as he struggled to keep himself in check.

His efforts quickly proved futile as a pair of feet — not just any sort of random feet, but full-formed paws with the typical meaty nails of a Lombax, and the striped fur of the legs that went WITH the feet — burst out from his stomach and under his clothing, pawing for ground as the rest of his body lengthened and elongated for good measure.

He twisted, kicking at air and sand and everything else, as his clothing quickly became too short to cover himself. The apparent exposure was enough to get the attention of the other 'prisoners', but Clank was the only one to cover his eyes. Half of the tribe looked away, while a pair of guards stepped forwards to try and correct Ratchet's position as quickly as possible.

Another mewl managed to escape Ratchet's throat at last, in a weak show of pain as he struggled to use his new feet to try and stand, unsteady. The queen held her hand out to help him up, which Ratchet only accepted out of sheer disorientation.

She smiled at him. "They don't call me the Queen Jinn for nothing, after all . . . consider it a gift until you are fully accepted into the Vani."

"If this is a gift, I'd hate to see what your idea of punishment is . . ." He managed out, still trying to make sense of himself. He hurt now in places he never knew he had, or never thought he'd ever have, for that matter.

She narrowed her eyes, whispering the next part."You will find _that_ out if you do not tell me what your association is with the police vessel that scarred our lands."

Ratchet blinked, confused. "Look, I'm not here for trouble. I just need to find that ship, get my friends back, and then we'll be out of your hair."

"So you do not wish to stay here?"

"Lady, we have a lot better things to do than play 'Four on the Floor' with you and your wagon train. We're glad you're not about to throw us in the dungeon or anything, but we can't just stay here."

The Queen frowned, but nodded. "Very well. I will allow your friends to leave once we have determined they pose no threat to us — but I do not wish to release you . . . 'Ratchet', at least not until I am fully convinced of your innocence or ignorance, whichever one you have in more abundant supply."

"And how long will that take?"

"I cannot say." She spoke, before clapping her hands. "Court is adjourned! Take our guests and let them rest — the dawn will be upon us again!" She then turned to Ratchet and his guard. "Bring him into my quarters when you finish for the night. I wish to question that one personally."

"Yes, my Queen." The guard spoke, glancing over at Ratchet with a leer of suspicion. "Are you even able to walk right now?"

"I . . ." Ratchet blinked, glancing down at his new legs, still creeped out. "I don't know."

"Ratchet, be careful around the Queen." Clank spoke, walking up to him. "I am not sure how to account for her abilities, but she is clearly a potent entity."

Ratchet rolled his eyes. "Tell me something I don't know, will you?"

"Understood; I also believe she is attracted to you."

"Impossible." The guard rolled his eyes. "I have been here since the Queen Jinn fell from grace. She has not once taken a man in that time, and the only other she lets stay with her is an older-looking Jinn who has far different taste in women."

Ratchet frowned, turning to the guard. "If I'm going to be chained up to you, I'm gonna need a name . . ."

"I am Rai'gami, warrior of the Tizao and escaped slave of the N'gumin." Rai spoke, giving a slight bow. "I discovered the Queen and her friend Sol'ind when they first fell from grace; she gave me the first transformation to make me of the Vani, and then did the same for herself and her friend."

"So there's two Jinn here?"

"Sol'ind is not as powerful as the Queen; we believe that despite his age, he may be an apprentice of hers." Rai shrugged, uncertain. "We have added foreigners to our tribe before, but none quite like you . . . your body reminded me of the Queen's when she fell. Tell me, is 'Veldin' the name of the Jinn kingdom?"

"Veldin's a planet." Ratchet spoke, finally doing some experimental hopping.

"What is this 'planet' thing, then?"

The hero rolled his eyes. "It's a long story . . ."

"Hey, Ratchet, baby . . ." Rose crept up on one side of him, and a brush against his ears caused him to turn and see Penny on the other. " . . . can we talk?"

He narrowed his eyes, but quickly pulled the three of them over and away from the crowd, jumping and tumbling even as he used the two of them like crutches. "What do you two want?"

"Hey, you want off this planet as much as we do!" Rose remarked. "We just happen to think that the Queen knows something that we don't, you know what I mean?"

"Ratchet, if we expect to get out of here, we need you to help us." Penny spoke, a little more curt. "I want you to go over to the Queen tonight and seduce her."

His eyes went wide. "What the fuck?"

"If you like." She shrugged. "You don't need to try and impregnate her, but a little foreplay at minimum would help."

"No, I mean what the fuck is wrong with you two?" He snarled, upset. "Clank can tell you how badly I suck at acting and negotiations! You want me to shoot something, fine. You need me to infiltrate a facility, I'm your man. But I'm telling you flat out, this Lombax is nobody's incubus!"

"But we need you to do this! You're the only one who's got the balls necessary for this . . . quite literally, I might add." Penny spoke. "Look, we know what happened to the _Gangrel_. You're not going ANYWHERE for a while without at least our help."

"And before you ask, no, we weren't the ones that got her shot down." Rose held up her hands. "We'll gladly-."

The next thing she knew, Ratchet whipped out a raptor pistol. "Start talking . . ."

Rose's eyes flew wide, but she soon rolled them, making it clear this wasn't the first time someone had waved weaponry that close to her face. "We were in suborbital space near that floating outpost when we spotted the _Gangrel _and figured you guys were aboard . . . and we were bored enough to fly off and try intercepting you. I don't know who was at the helm of your ship, but they've got a hell of a dogfight routine . . ."

"We were chasing them down when they decided to turn in mid-path to shoot us, and the next thing we knew, we saw 'em getting smacked with an orbital lance!" Rose continued, hands open. "We didn't know who it was, since we never called for anybody or knew of any other ships out in orbit, but she took the hit hard and started going down in flames."

Penny nodded. "So we followed behind 'em in case there were any of you on board . . . y'know, 'cause we figured it'd be our best chance to take you prisoner or finish you off or whatever, but then we clipped ourselves on the landing. We can still fly our ship, but the vertical thrusters don't work anymore; so while we can't breech the atmosphere, we can get you to an outpost until we find better repairs."

Ratchet sighed, holding his head. "Then how does me seducing anything help you two? If anything, you two are the ones I need to be worrying about!"

"Come on, this girl's not using 'magic'; she's probably just got some special sort of nano! Maybe if you get cozy enough with her, she'll tell us what other technology she's got that we can use!" Rose exclaimed. "She's got to be able to do more than just this morphing stuff!"

"Besides, you're the best suited for it; she's already hitting on you, didn't you notice?" Penny smirked. "This is just like that mermaid story: Prince falls into the sea, Mermaid kisses him so he can breathe underwater and grow a tail, Prince and Mermaid have some fun, Prince goes back to dry land and the Mermaid gives up her tail to follow him . . ."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Prince cheats on Mermaid and the Mermaid suicides by cliff . . ."

Penny turned to glare at her sister. "Okay, maybe not 'just like' the mermaid story. But that's not the point! She's already turned you into a taur and invited you into her quarters; that must mean she likes you! She's practically begging for some action!"

"But I don't even know HOW to . . ." Ratchet clamped his teeth shut, looking down at himself. "I barely even know how to walk in this body; how do you expect me to have sex in it?"

"Come on, you must know what 'doggy style' is . . ." Rose smirked.

"Oh, sure, and I suppose that also explains how to deal with your gear three feet behind where it usually is and another pair of legs too?"

Rai put a hand into the fray, slightly disturbed. "The other guards and I can hear everything you three are saying, you realize . . ."

"We're not going to hurt her." Rose cooed to the guard. "We just want to procure some better cooperation is all."

Rai'gami narrowed his eyes. "I will not let any of you compromise the Queen's honor unless and until she accepts it. If I hear another word of this . . . collusion, I'll make sure _someone_'s honor gets pierced, but it won't be the Queen's!"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Too late."

Ratchet made a slight face, then turned to Rai. "Look . . . just take me to the Queen's wagon, please. I've had enough of this conversation."

"That makes two of us." Rai spat back as Ratchet received an answer with a jerk on his chain. Ratchet walked forward with Rai now, much more steady on his legs than before; Whatever the Queen had in mind for him, at least it had to be a better idea than listening to those two.


	50. Secrets Can't Last Forever

_Consider this  
The hint of the century  
Consider this  
The slip that brought me  
To my knees failed  
What if all these fantasies  
Come flailing around  
Now I've said too much . . .  
_  
- "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M.

**Chapter 49  
Secrets Can't Last Forever**

* * *

"Ladies and Gentlemen . . . We're currently experiencing some technical difficulties . . ." 

A crackling hiss went off in her ear as Dallas called up from his vantage point. "Now just so we're clear, he wasn't _supposed_ to drop dead on the way out, right?"

"Of course not." Dahlia hissed from inside the center ring, looking down at the workhand who had just fallen in front of her. She kneeled down to check for a pulse, even as EMTs swarmed out from the back with a stretcher in tow. "Ladies and Gentlemen, if you're just tuning in to this show, we were supposed to start Cirque du Mortis momentarily, but it appears that we're dealing with a minor situation and need to clear the ring before we can properly begi-."

CHAHK-RASH!

The stretcher clattered against the ground as one by one, the EMTs also fell, clutching their chests and collapsing. Dahlia blinked, still holding her microphone in her gloved hand as the situation dawned on her. "Dallas . . . pull us off the air. NOW."

There was a pause in the communication as she glanced up.

"Dallas?! Are you there, damnit?!" She shouts up, quickly growing more frantic. "Manual Override! Get everyone out of this arena, now. It's not for discussion. MOVE!"

The next few minutes were filled with screams as the crowds ran for the exits, not waiting for even an explanation as a reason to file out. Dahlia watched for another few moments, before grabbing at her ear again. "Check everyone filing out. Make sure to give them hoods if they ask for 'em. Don't spook the herd — split 'em up if you have to."

"Miss Avon, are you sure? What about your security detail?"

"I'm fine. Get those people out of here before we have any more splash damage!" She snarled again, looking around. "Inexperienced nitwits . . . Where's Maggie? I want a line to her, NOW!"

_Two crossed wires later..._

"Lock down every exit, NOW! We've got an Insider on the premises!" Maggie snarled, running down the hall. "I want Theo, Cerona, Damien, and Marie out here pronto!"

"What the hell's going on?" Viridian spoke up, matching Maggie's speed.

"Some Reaper's decided to announce his presence after all — just like you were thinking, even." Maggie narrowed her eyes at him. "You know something I don't, V?"

"I just . . . had an inkling that I sensed someone's presence here . . ." He answered, realizing he may have given too much information already.

"Cracked shell, huh?" She smirked, glancing over at him. "I shouldn't be too shocked at you. Maybe you can help us spot 'em, then; you able to see souls as well?"

"I'm not sure I'd be able to identify her for you . . ."

"So it's a she, too?"

"I don't know; just being polite. He, she, you know how the English language is so horrible for non-gendered pronouns . . ." He stammered, trying to recover his position further.

Maggie stopped in her tracks, grabbing Viridian by the arm. "You know who's doing this, don't you?"

"Of course I don't, She wouldn't tell me her name!" He managed out again, before finding a metal muzzle up against his windpipe.

Maggie narrowed her eyes. "I need names, V."

He winced, squirming against the metal. "Look, I only know what Jigsaw said to-!"

"Oh, THAT explains everything!" Maggie rolled her eyes, keeping her gun tight against Viridian's throat. "I knew Mom always acted a little weird around her; I bet she's the Reaper, isn't she?"

"Absolutely not!" Viridian shot back. "She's supposed to be the Protectorate! Why would she do this even if she was?"

"Look, all I know about Jigsaw is what Mom relayed to us. I'm not about to hesitate on blowing her away if she's pulling the strings on this!" Maggie snarled, nearly pitching Viridian to the floor and stepping over him.

His eyes went narrow, before running after her. He didn't need to be going through this _again..._

Maggie was already too far ahead for anyone to get in her way, however. By the time she was to the other end of the hall, Damien was standing there with his headwings out. "Where's Jigsaw!? Where is she?!"

"We've already secured a few Cracked, but no Insiders yet. And are you telling me we've got interlopers in here too?"

Maggie shook her head. "I'm thinking she's _both _our problems."

"My, isn't that convenient..." Damien purred, eyes narrow. "Which little birdie gave you that idea?"

"Viridian. Something about him seems to know a little more than I do." She spoke, pulling her weapon back up to her side. "I'm gonna check on something."

She crept back towards Viridian's locker room, with several of the other security agents soon following her lead. The door flew open as she ran in, making a beeline for the chair.

"What are you-!?" Jigsaw managed out just before being tackled to the floor, pinned into the corner between the floor and Maggie's gun.

"Game's over, Reaper." She hissed, holding the weapon tight.

Jigsaw started kicking her legs harder, unable to move much else. "You're out of your mind! I've been tied down all evening . . ."

"We'll see about that." Maggie turned her head for just a moment, calling out back into the hallway."Damien! This girl an Insider?"

He didn't even flinch. "Absolutely."

"Well, then . . . there's only a few things you can be if you're an Insider, and quite frankly, none of them are worth keeping you alive."

"MAGGIE! STOP!"

-BLAM!-

Jigsaw shuddered, her legs dropping in reflex as she became all too aware of the discharged weapon. Viridian paused right behind Maggie, looking down at the carnage just below him, but then moved just as swiftly, grabbing Maggie by an ear.

"OW! What do you think you're-?" She shouted, caught off-guard. "Security!"

Six Lombaxes darted out to hold Viridian at bay, giving her time to stand up and look down at her freshly killed quarry. "I hope you have a good reason as to why you brought in an Insider to this place, let alone a Reaper."

" . . . you killed her . . ."

"Yeah, that's what you're supposed to do with Insiders, idiot!" Maggie snarled. "Now somebody take this Reaper out of here and find whatever she was using to cause those kills. We've got to move fast; if we found this one, Jigsaw must be close!"

The corpse let out a low whine, making it clear she wasn't much of a corpse. "A little closer than you think."

Maggie blinked, turning around to see the body turning its head. "What in the . . . I thought Reapers were supposed to be easy to kill once you found 'em out!"

"Then you're lucky I'm not . . . ugh . . . I need to sit up . . ." Jigsaw managed out, still all too aware of the hole in her chest.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't fill you with more bullets." The gun was levelled once more, Maggie bristling with anger. "Go on, I'm waiting."

"I k-!" She started, before furrowing her eyes. Her expression dropped soonafter. "Magnolia."

"Still waiting..." The little Hobbit tapped her foot, looking down at her.

"I need you to cooperate with me and listen carefully. Someone just stepped into the room and I can't see who it is because nobody's looking in that direction."

She gave a quick glance back, flipping her bow around to see Damien, before rolling her eyes. "It's just Damien Vox. You know, the Touched one."

"That's interesting." Jigsaw frowned. "Because I'd think that with a Reaper on a murder spree in here, he'd be far more interested in them instead of me." Jigsaw cocked her head, appearing to stare up at Maggie. "Or you, even."

Maggie blinked, glancing back at Damien once more. "Keep talking."

"There is something very wrong with the current series of events." Jigsaw spoke, still on the floor. "Damien's mind is just close enough to mine right now that I can tell there's something wrong with it; something incredibly wrong."

"Ignore her; she's just trying to buy herself more time." Damien snapped. "Finish killing her so we can get this show over with."

Magnolia lowered her gun, a curious look on her face. "Something interesting coming up in reading his mind, I take it?"

"I would agree with that statement if I were actually reading it." She spoke, struggling to sit up; Maggie grabbed onto her shoulder, helping her to her feet. "I'm having to work to read anyone else's mind here, but Damien's... he almost seems to be broadcasting his to me. Like he knows I'm already looking for it."

"So?"

"It's the telepathic equivalent of a red herring. Whatever it is he's actually thinking, he doesn't want me to get into it." Jigsaw frowned, taking a shaky step closer.

"Hell-o, she's still alive, somebody _shoot her_ . . ." Damien snarled, taking a step back.

"Like right now, for example. He's telling you all to kill me and yet he doesn't seem to actually _want_ my death. Oh, he wants someone to die, sure . . ." Jigsaw turned back around, throwing her voice back towards Maggie. "It's you he wants dead. At least that's what I'm picking up from him, but I don't trust that either."

Maggie shook her head, crossing her arms. "Now I see why Dexter calls you 'Mindfucker'. What's the point of telling me all this? Do you think I'm gullible enough to actually turn on him just because you say so?"

"On the contrary; I think you've got enough of your mother's hard head to not believe me unless I explain myself completely." Jigsaw frowned. "Damien's playing with us. He's playing with you until the time is right for this 'Reaper' he's unleashed into the system to kill you, but not before you eliminate me as well. He's trying to get you where he's got Dexter, because once you're out of the system, you're . . . the system . . ."

Viridian blinked, starting to twig what was going on. "The system?"

"She's rambling, dammit! Someone kill her already!" Damien shouted once more, before turning towards security. "Release Viridian! Kill her!"

"Now hang on; she's making a whole lot more sense than you have tonight." Viridian spoke up.

Maggie nodded. "And if you want her dead so badly, why don't you do it? I thought you and the rest of the Celeste hated the Dead Inside."

"He can't. If he gets any closer, he'll blow his cover." Jigsaw smirked, the pieces falling into place in her mind. "Which means all I need to do is get a little closer, and-"

Damien took two steps back, causing Jigsaw's ears to perk up. He bolted to run down the hallway, but not  
before both Maggie and Viridian fired shots, causing the Zillan to trip and crumple to the floor, bleeding from his legs. "You . . . insufferable . . . TRAITORS!"

"Hey, she brings up some good points, 'boss'." Magnolia smirked. "Go on, Jigsaw. Why don't you tell me what my boss really has on his mind . . . maybe we'll catch that Reaper before he does too much more damage."

"I don't think there's a Reaper around here. Not anymore, at least." Jigsaw took a few steps closer, slowly, cautiously, prying gently to get her mind further in. "Something about his mind isn't behaving like everyone else's still . . . even discounting his attempts to throw me off."

The hobbit pouted, tapping her chin. "Like he's hiding something bigger from us?"

"More like he's somewhere else. Almost like he's playing some sort of elaborate game with us." Jigsaw frowned. "And I'm beginning to think that's exactly what this is."

" . . . How?"

"I'm not sure." Jigsaw frowned, taking even more steps towards Damien. "I'm worried this is going to become more dangerous if I say too much else. If I'm wrong and Damien's just acting flaky for the sake of being a flake, then I can analyze him further. If I'm right, and this whole situation we're in right now was fabricated for us, then as soon as we realize we're no longer in proper reality, whoever's pulling the strings behind this whole mess is going to cut us o-."

"Uncle! UNCLE!" Damien shrieked out, trying to crawl away, looking up at nothing in particular. "Get back in here! I can't shut this off!"

" . . . Bingo."

Viridian ran over to his daughter immediately. Maggie ran over to Jigsaw a few moments later, looking at Damien crying 'uncle', her eyes wide in disbelief. " . . . You were right?"

"Only partly. He's certainly reacting like I expected him to, but I don't understand why he's crying out for Uncle when the last time I checked, 'Uncle Gleeman' was a rapidly expanding cloud of . . . of . . ." Jigsaw remarked, before she stopped in mid-sentence, twigging something else.

"Of?"

"Oh . . . Oh, SHI-!" Jigsaw managed out, before falling to the ground, utterly limp.

Maggie turned to face Viridian, eyes wide. "I don't understand what's going on here . . ."

"Of course you wouldn't. You weren't living in fear of the man the way Jigsaw and I were." Viridian spoke, oddly calm. "I don't think we'll be standing for much longer, either."

Magnolia winced, worried. " . . . Should we be saying the Sh'ma right now?"

"We're not about to die. Yet." Viridian shook his head. "Apparently Gleeman's a lot more clever than I ever gave him credit for. I'd say goodbye to you, but I don't think we'll get the chanc-."


	51. Still Alive

**Chapter 51  
Still Alive**

_We do what we must  
because we can.  
For the good of all of us  
Except the ones who are dead._

- "Still Alive" by Jonathan Coulton

* * *

"Welcome once more, gypsy Ratchet." The Queen's sultry voice cooed to him from the lips of the tent. "Please, come inside. I have waited for you." 

Rai blushed. "She usually doesn't ask for them inside like that..."

Ratchet's eyes went wide. There was no way those Ravers could've been right about this. "Aren't you coming in with me?"

"Sol'ind will take the other end of your chain once you enter. She allowed you inside; not me." Rai corrected him, giving him a light push on the small of his back. "Now enter, before she asks again."

A hard gulp slithered down his throat as he stepped inside, eyes still wide at what he saw. The black-furred Queen was sprawled along several pillows, with a stark white taur already reclined a few feet away. In her current stance, it was too difficult NOT to notice how little she actually wore.

"Your Jinn . . . er, Majesty, Highness, whichever you go by . . . I'm not that kind of Lombax!" Ratchet stammered, crossing his legs, only to end up falling to one side and flailing to regain his stance.

"At ease, gypsy." She chuckled. "I merely wish to ask you a few questions. I merely felt that the more . . . open I made myself, the more open you would be with me."

"I don't think we're using the same definition of 'open' here." Ratchet blushed further, noting how the white taur ran over to grab his chain while the Queen quickly pulled herself back up to standing, walking over even as she 'forgot' to adjust her capelet back over her breasts.

"Perhaps. But I think we're both out for the same things here . . ." She purred, bringing her mouth towards the interior of one ear. " . . . aren't we?"

"Look, I . . . I'm sure you're a very nice Queen Jinn, but I can't just-!"

Her next words chilled him to the spot. "Who said you had a choice?"

The next (and last) thing Ratchet felt right then was the all-too-certain clamping of her jaws on his throat, piercing the skin in its tightness. His eyes went for the ceiling, and the last thing he saw was a sheet of paper sewn to the rooftop before the world went black.

Then blue.

Then sickly, sickly green.

_"Bastard's getting off WAY too easy for my liking."_

Ratchet's eyes flew wide, his senses absolutely haywire. He couldn't move. _He couldn't move._ Something made everything short of his neck want to not work at-

Never mind. Now he felt something . . . a low trickle. Just enough to know he couldn't move even if he wanted to. Something had him as rooted to the spot as he first was when he showed up at DreadZone. On top of the restraints he had holding him down, his skin felt . . . well, like he was underwater.

Check that, he WAS underwater. Something was over his muzzle, keeping him breathing — he now noted the dull feeling of tubes in his nostrils, as well as something going down his throat and probably to his stomach as well. Whatever this liquid was, it felt heavy and thick. A gel, almost.

He strained to look out again at the sickly green glop, trying to see if he could make sense of what was going on. A ceiling, some lights, some tubing . . . could be anything, from a lab to a dropship. He had no clue and he wasn't going to have one until he could see something a little more active.

"What do you mean you can't control them individually? Isn't that what I keep you around for?" The rough voice barked again. Ratchet still couldn't make out where it was from.

Finally, shapes came into view. A few large, bulky shapes, hovering around a console . . . Ratchet shut his eyes once more, trying to turn his head just enough to cut through the gel a little better with whatever was helping him breathe. Maybe if he created enough of a rift in the gel, he could see out of it, and-

Ratchet blinked, seeing a Zillan standing there - a little smaller and sleeker than Cypress, but not by much. A pair of tiny wings flapped on top of his head. Ratchet shut his eyes trying to remember. That's Damien from the videos. . . wait, Damien was supposed to be bad by now. Why is this happening? What am I doing here?

"Trying to prevent the rest of your operation from going pear-shaped, boy?"

"Yes, Uncle . . ." Damien whinged, nervous. "I almost had her, I swear!"

"Almost doesn't cut it." The older voice hissed again. "Stop fucking around in the systems. You've already cost us valuable time as is, and I'm sure 'Mother' doesn't want to see you failing again..."

Damien gulped. "I'm trying, honest!"

"And giving our 'guest' homoerotic fantasies is what passes for trying now?" The older voice snapped. "Hurry up with him. We need to finish this, fast."

The older Zillan walked a little closer to the gel tank, and Ratchet's face froze.

He would've stopped breathing if he could. Even the machinery attached to his chest was already sparking at him to try and keep his heart pumping. Right over his head, on the other side of the rift of gel and whatever barrier was keeping the two of them apart, was the snarling, toothy face of Gleeman Vox himself.

The old Zillan looked far worse for wear than before; he could've sworn one of his eyes had been replaced with some bionics to complement the ones in his arm, and stress had already turned his hair and a good number of his scales grey. But it was unmistakably Gleeman, and Gleeman was just-as-unmistakably pissed.

What did that sadist still want with him? Why was he here? Why was Gleeman still alive?! What was going on?!_  
_

_"Did you hear me? I said NOW, rodent!"_

Ratchet screamed, but this time four hands clapped right over his mouth, holding him still.

"Are you _trying_ to wake the rest of my tribe up?!" Sol'ind hissed, his voice unfamiliar to Ratchet's, but still vaguely familiar.

Ratchet's pulse was still out of control, his senses only slowly returning to normal. The room . . . the gel . . . Vox . . . it had to have been a hallucination, and yet it felt all too _real _. . .

"What the fuck did you just do to me?!" Ratchet hissed, eyes wide.

"I . . . I just fed, that was all!" She managed out, her arms swinging wide. "Most people just go blank when I do that! Not like you . . ."

"Yeah, right." Ratchet narrowed his eyes. "If I wanted to be somebody's breakfast I'd have given Jigsaw a go before I-!"

The Queen blinked. "She's still alive?!"

Ratchet paused. "You know her?"

"Are you kidding? I used to-. Er..." She stopped herself, unwilling to speak any further. Ratchet's eyes fluttered, still confused, until he recognized a certain glint in the Queen's eye.

Ratchet squinted at it, then groaned. _So that's what Gleeman meant by 'homoerotic' . . ._

The queen narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Are you trying to get a reaction out of me, gypsy?"

"Hell no. Besides, you're the one who's gettin' off on pretending to be a girl and all . . . " Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "Slick, right?"

She blinked, momentarily shocked, then lowered her shoulders. "Tell you what... I'll lower my pretenses if you lower yours."

Ratchet quickly received a hard chop to the back as Sol'ind clocked him, and Ratchet quickly saw the Queen shift once more, her forelegs delving back up within 'her' as she reached for a new set of linens, wrapping them around 'her' waist as she shifted back into the form that Ratchet had seen back in the videos, and it quickly became clear that this 'Queen' Ratchet had feared was no more female than he was.

A brief love tap on Ratchet's head and a quick handshake between his two captors later, and Ratchet found his insides churning once more as he returned to his normal, bipedal self. He looked up briefly to see the white Anyr looming over his head as Sol'ind grew in size, staring down at the Lombax with burning eyes as two black parrot-like hands reached out to hold him down.

The Anyr male snarled down at Ratchet, wide, slightly-yellowed teeth overtaking Ratchet's field of vision. "How about we start by asking about that logo 'cross your shoulders, brat?"

"If I could get rid of that damned thing, I would . . ." Ratchet groaned, hissing lightly. "I swear, I'm not-!"

"What, working for Vox?" Slick snarled, looking down at his prisoner. "You were the one that came here with Cypress! Last I checked, that dyke wanted me dead the last time I saw her, and I have no reason to believe that's changed!"

"Slow down, slow down . . . I can explain everything!" Ratchet managed out, still pinned down. "But let me catch my mind up first . . . You're obviously Slick, I'm guessing you're 'White Noise'?"

"Smart kid. 'Silk' will do, not that you'll get to live long enough for it to matter." White glared.

The striped Lombax rolled his eyes. "We'll see about that. Now what the hell did Cypress do to you that made it worth calling her a dyke?"

"Bein' one."

"Seriously."

Slick shook his head. "I'm serious, she is one. Come on, you work with her enough, you had to've seen her and Addy goin' at it like a pair of-!"

Ratchet managed out a noise that sounded like a cry of disbelief, a finger pointed out at Slick but then mewled as the part of his brain that was keeping the rest of it propped out of the gutter snapped like a twig. "Oh GOD that explains a lot . . ."

Slick couldn't help but laugh, turning towards Silk. "We'll let him live a little longer. He's funny."

"Don't get the boy's hopes up." Silk shrugged. "We haven't exactly survived out here this long without making sure that people who come in don't come back out once they get this far."

"Now, now, don't scare him . . . we don't want the idiot to try something stupid." Slick smirked, before adding on. "All right, Ratchet, I'll play along; if you're not working for Vox, then who sent you here?"

"Jigsaw!" Ratchet barked, almost on instinct. "She's Protectorate now! DreadZone's over! Gleeman Vox is dead!" He spoke, before nervously adding, "Should be dead, anyway."

"My, that's a lot of information to take in at once . . . and with nothing to make me believe it, I might add." The black Lombax raised an eyebrow. "This wouldn't be the first time I've been lied to by those bastards."

"Ask Cypress if you don't believe me."

"I trust you only as far as I can throw you. I trust her less." The criminal shot back. "Anyone who tries to gas me and my friends to death doesn't deserve my trust."

"When'd that happen?"

"Around the time we were 'supposed' to receive pardons for finishing out the season." Silk butted in. "They would've killed me too if I hadn't seen Slick get caught in a chamber first."

"Turning into a puddle wasn't exactly much better than dying, either." Slick groaned, before shaking his head.

Ratchet blinked. "What?"

"That's how he's able to turn into giant snakes and all that other shit." White Noise shrugged. "I don't know whether Jigsaw meant to turn you into a vampire or not, but it's damn well come in handy enough times out here . . ."

"Being awful loose with the information, aren't you?" The 'captive' raised an eyebrow.

"Boy, we're planning to kill you and the Zillan you rode in on anyway. Unless you can give us some other explanation that doesn't involve DreadZone."

"Adari'a's been kidnapped." Ratchet hissed. "We were already on the surface trying to find her when we saw our ship go down, so we needed to investigate."

Slick glanced down. "Ah . . . so that was your ship, and not Jigsaw's?"

"Well, Jigsaw owned it, sure, we were using it to come here . . ."

"I see." Slick frowned. "Well then, since my tribe already found it, I'll save you the trouble. No survivors."

Ratchet winced, curling up for a moment. "What happened?"

"We don't know; the crash site was already too close to last week's campsite for our liking." The vampire shrugged, walking over to a pouch. "We found one body and . . . parts near the engine. The rest was too badly destroyed to be of any use, at least to us." He reached into the pouch, pulling out the metallic, charred half of a head from the pouch. "You know him?"

"AL!" Ratchet leapt forward, straining to the length of his chain for a few moments until Silk let go, and Ratchet then fell forward, grabbing the head on the way down, fiddling in vain with the skull fragment. "Come on, man . . . speak to me . . ."

Slick blinked, watching in amazement as Ratchet's fingers went to work, and suddenly . . . a spark. A blinking LED-eye. Movement in the semblance of his jawbone. It moved, it fidgeted, but . . .

"Al . . . come on, man . . . blink once for yes, twice for no . . . something!" Ratchet tried to cajole him. "Come on . . . don't leave me hanging out here . . . please . . . come back, please . . . I . . . I miss you . . ."

Ratchet shook the fragment once more, then dropped his own head, eyes clamped shut.

He soon felt the Anyr's hand on his shoulder, not trying to pinch a nerve or grab him, but . . . in consolation, perhaps. Ratchet looked up to see White Noise shaking his head. "He's not there. I tried."

"Hell, we needed something to interrogate, and she wasn't waking up." Slick pulled a green doll out of the pouch as well. "Maybe you'll have better luck with her?"

"I just want him back . . . he didn't even want to come with us . . . thought it was too dangerous." Ratchet mewled, ignoring Slick. "That's why he stayed behind on the ship. He wasn't supposed to die like this . . ."

Slick paused for a moment, holding Gangrel in one hand. "How'd he end up half-metal, anyway . . .?"

"It's Vox's fault . . . Ace practically killed him right after I reached Vindicator rank . . ." Ratchet whimpered, before glaring up at Slick. "Do you two believe me yet?! I never even wanted to work for Vox in the first place; I got roped into this shit, same as you!"

The two criminals both cried up at once. "Bullshit!"

"I'm telling the fucking truth!" Ratchet snarled. "I spent a whole goddamn year fighting in historical sites demolished just for the sake of prime-time television and forced into deathmatches with whatever shitty equipment he had to spare, my tail shoved up my ass so high I could do my own prostate exam, and a collar set to detonate around my neck if I didn't behave like the little tattooed slave he turned me into! I used to watch Ace Hardlight every Saturday morning as a kid, and I went and shot him dead in cold blood, just because I had to! You think I'd work for Gleeman after all that shit? I left that bastard Vox behind to die in a nitroglycerin inferno because I wanted to!"

The silence lasted for a good thirty seconds, before Slick held up the doll again, gesturing towards Ratchet. " . . . I'd still like you to try and make this doll talk. Y'know, just because."

"Hand her here." Ratchet held a hand out, catching Gangrel with ease. "Hm . . . well, this one's easier; I don't see any damage on her. I think her batteries just ran out."

"You have any batteries?"

"Sure I do . . . step outside with me and I'll show you what my 'baby' can do." Ratchet pondered, before tacking on, "We need to have a little talk with the others anyway."

"Oh no you don't. I'm not havin' Cypress and the others catch wind of me and Silk . . . you still haven't convinced me you're not working for DreadZone." He hissed. "I'll believe you got roped into it, but that don't mean I believe you've roped yourself back out."

"Fine, but as soon as I wake Gangrel up to tell you otherwise, you're telling her. If I ever get back to Veldin and Jigsaw finds out that I know you're still alive but didn't bring you back, she'll kill me enough for the both of you."


End file.
